Mishaps of a Young Prince
by Lusse Eldalion
Summary: And there they were. The Balrog Slayer, a mighty warrior of the Woodland Realm, the sons of Elrond and his counsellor against a baby. And they were losing. A collection of one-shots starring our favorite prince!
1. A tooth problem

**This is a collection of one shots involving Legolas. His age will vary through the chapters. It will mostly have Greenwood's Prince running into trouble, with everyone around him going crazy trying to keep him safe. It will not ALWAYS be like that, though. I hope you enjoy!**

 **A few notes:**

 **Daeron is Legolas' protector in 'To be a Prince'. Kaela, though he has not appeared yet in any of my stories, is the head of healers in my unpublished ones (which I may publish someday, probably depending on how this collection of one-shots goes!).**

 **Disclaimer:** LOTR is the work of a genious, so... not mine!

 **Summary:** Daeron and Glorfindel thought this would be a paceful day. _Thought._

 **Characters:** Glorfindel, Daeron, Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas. Some Erestor as well.

* * *

 **A tooth problem**

Glorfindel was happy. Oh yes, he was as happy as an elf could be. The day was wonderful, the sun shone in all its brightness, a soft breeze caressed the leaves, and he had not a care in the world. He was going to enjoy this day as much as he could.

He saw Daeron waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, and he waved at him. His friend looked happy as well. No wonder why. The twins had volunteered to look after Legolas that day, so Daeron, being the protector of the little Prince, did not have to worry about his safety.

The King and Queen of Greenwood had come to Imladris for the summer. They had an excellent relationship with Elrond and Celebrian, so visits between them were not rare, which happened to be for the best, for it gave Glorfindel the chance to see his old friend Daeron every year. And it gave everyone a respite with the twins. Though when Legolas was around they behaved themselves, they were the most trouble finding elves in all Arda. 'Well,' Glorfindel thought, 'until the birth of Greenwood's Prince, that's it'.

Legolas was not even four years old in human eyes, but he had managed to match the twins' tally of mischief. He was a bright child, with golden hair and heart, but he was quite a handful. Glorfindel adored him, but at the same time he did not envy Daeron's position. Despite his sweet heart, clever mind and, overall, all his cuteness, the child was impossible to contain. A force of nature.

"What's on your mind, _mellon-nin_?" Daeron asked as Glorfindel joined him.

"I was thinking about your young charge," the Balrog Slayer answered, smiling at Daeron's exasperated expression.

"Bless his heart, I can't help but be overjoyed he is with the twins today." His face grew serious all of a sudden as he added, "They will take good care of him, won't they?"

Glorfindel laughed. "Of course they will! They love him dearly, you know that." He patted the other elf's shoulder as they crossed the main gate. "You can't help being worried about him, can you?"

"Thranduil would kill me if something happened to him."

"So, you only fear for Legolas because of Thranduil?" Glorfindel asked, already knowing the answer but not willing to lose the slightest chance to tease his friend.

"You know that's not so," Daeron said, blushing if only slightly. "Legolas may be a little rascal, but I have come to love him as if he were my own. I wouldn't trust anyone else with his safety. Besides, he is a funny one to watch."

"That he is. You don't get bored with him around."

Glorfindel and Daeron kept chatting carelessly, walking through the forest until they reached the lake where they planned to fish their lunch. The Balrog Slayer laid on the soft grass, breathing deeply and enjoying the silence of the trees.

'Everything is perfect today,' he thought again. 'Nothing could go wrong- '

A piercing scream brought Glorfindel out of his thoughts. He swiftly got to his feet. It had been an elfling's voice. And there was only one elfling _that_ little in Imladris.

"Valar," Daeron whispered behind him. He felt his friend run pass him towards the trees, following the direction of the scream, and Glorfindel quickly followed.

"Legolas!" Daeron shouted.

"We are here!"

Glorfindel felt relief wash all over him when he recognized Elladan's voice. If the little Prince was with the twins, it couldn't be so bad. He and Daeron emerged from the trees to a clearing, where they saw Elladan and Elrohir crouching besides a wide-eyed Legolas. The little Prince had a hand over his mouth, and it didn't matter how much the twins tried, he wouldn't lower it. Glorfindel and Daeron approached them.

"What is wrong- is that blood!?" Daeron said, or rather, shouted, kneeling besides Elladan, who winced in pain at the other elf's high voice.

"We turned for a second. A _second_ , I swear. And then he screamed and covered his mouth. I don't know where the blood is coming from, but it seems to be from inside his mouth," Elrohir explained, getting up and looking at Glorfindel with the most repentant expression he had ever seen the twin with.

"Legolas, _tithen pen_ ," Daeron said, trying to pry Legolas' hand off his mouth, "let me see."

Legolas just shook his head, eyes bright with tears.

"Oh, princeling," Daeron said, bringing the child closer to him and stroking his head when Legolas hid his face in his shoulder, sobbing but without taking his hand off his mouth. "Won't you tell me what is wrong?"

Daeron felt Legolas shake his head and sighed. He got up, with Legolas in his arms.

"Do you want to go with _Ada_ and _Nana_?"

After a second, he felt Legolas nod. As they began their return to the Last Homely House, the twins walked around Daeron trying to make eye contact with the little elf and reassure him that, whatever had happened, would be alright.

"Do not fret," Daeron said, smiling at their worried faces. "He will be fine once we find the King and Queen." But Glorfindel could hear the worried tone in his friend's voice when he added, "If only we could see where the blood is coming from…"

There were only some drops of blood around the elfling's mouth, and the cause was probably a small wound, but Glorfindel had to concede it was distressing to see the usually lively kid so quiet. As if hearing his thoughts, Legolas turned his face and looked at the Balrog Slayer with huge teary blue eyes.

"Hello, little prince," he said, approaching him and touching the tip of his nose. Legolas squeezed his eyes, and Glorfindel could swear he heard a soft giggle. "What is wrong with your mouth?" he tried, though if the Prince had not answered the twins nor Daeron, he wouldn't answer him. Had Arwen been with them, she may have gotten an answer, but she was away in Lothlórien. As he had suspected, Legolas looked at him in silence and hid his face once again.

At last, they reached Last Homely House, and the five elves entered it, looking around in hope of seeing Legolas' parents. Instead, they found Erestor.

"Can I help you?" he asked, approaching the elves with a frown, looking at the small bundle in Daeron's arms. "What happened to him?"

"We do not know. We were hoping to find his parents so he would tell them."

Erestor paled. "Oh no."

All the elves looked at him, Legolas turning his face and glaring at Erestor.

"What is it?" Glorfindel was almost afraid to know.

"The King and Queen… they…" Erestor gulped visibly. "They are unable to attend the young one at the moment."

Legolas frowned, looking at Erestor as if he had just killed a puppy.

"What do you mean 'unable'?"

"They are not here. Knowing the little Prince was with the twins, Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian took them to the waterfalls. They won't come back until late afternoon."

Glorfindel could have cut with his sword the silence that fell upon them. Suddenly, everything got hotter. He started to sweat, and he noticed Daeron was not faring much better. He looked at Legolas, who was still glaring at Erestor. The Prince blinked a couple times.

"Well then," Daeron said, as pale as Erestor now.

Glorfindel was pretty sure all Imladris heard the scream that followed. Legolas buried his face in Daeron's shoulder again, now crying as if the louder he screamed, the sooner his parents would return. If only.

Daeron adjusted his hold on the child, who was twisting in his arms like a wild cat. "Legolas, _saes_ , lower your voice. Stop moving!" The Prince didn't seem to hear him, something quite plausible, Glorfindel thought, for hearing something over the loud squeaking was difficult. The twins looked now on the verge of passing out, guilt written all over their faces.

So there they were. The Balrog Slayer, a mighty warrior of Greenwood Realm, two sons of Elrond and the Lord of Imladris' counsellor against a baby. And they were losing.

"Now, now," Daeron tried, cradling Legolas and patting his back. "They will return shortly, Legolas, no need to cause this fuss."

At least Legolas' voice was somewhat muffled over his tiny hand, which he had not removed from his mouth yet. However, it did little to contain his screams.

Glorfindel looked around, desperate to find something to calm the little prince down. It didn't take him long to find the perfect distraction. Resolved to take things into his own hands, he walked towards the wall and took a ceremonial bow off the exhibitor.

"Legolas! Legolas, look what I have here!" he said, smiling at the young elf and showing him the weapon.

"Glorfindel I don't know if that's a very good idea."

Silence washed over them. They all turned in shock to look at the little Prince, who was looking in wonder at the bow.

"Do you like it?" Glorfindel asked, relieved at the absence of ear-piercing screaming. The elfling nodded. "Do you want to hold it?"

"Glorfindel, really-" Daeron started, but he had to shut his mouth when Legolas glared at him. He then squirmed out of Daeron's arms. They watched Legolas walk over to Glorfindel, who kneeled beside the Prince.

"Do you want to hold it?" he asked again, Legolas nodding his head shyly. "But you need both hands!"

Legolas turned and looked at Daeron with fearful eyes. The other elf approached him and sat on the floor next to Glorfindel. "Can you take your hand off your face, little one?" he asked.

Legolas' eyes watered again. "I'm afraid." A small soft voice came through the hand.

"Why?"

"I will die if I take my hand off my mouth," they heard. Daeron's eyebrows could not have gotten any higher.

"Why is that?" The twins and Erestor approached them, sitting as well to meet Legolas' eye level.

"Because I am falling apart," Legolas said, tears now falling freely.

"What do you mean?" Daeron asked, putting a hand over the child's face and cleaning the tears.

"I broke myself. Do you remember the vase in _Nana_ 's bedroom?" Daeron nodded, recalling the incident in which Legolas had managed to get inside a vase and then fall, breaking the vase in tiny pieces. "Well, I think its ghost is taking revenge."

Glorfindel had to lower his head so the little elfling would not see the grin that had appeared on his face.

"Legolas, you know Lord Elrond is the best healer in Middle Earth," Daeron asked.

"Other than Kaela," Legolas said, frowning.

"Yes, other than Kaela," Daeron smiled, thinking of the head of the healers back in Greenwood. "He is the best healer, and he trained his sons," he pointed to Elladan and Elrohir. "to be healers as well. If you take your hand off your face, they will be able to heal you!"

Legolas looked at the twins, as if measuring their level of competence. "Have you glued together many elflings before?" He gravely asked them.

"Oh yes," they answered. "Many." That was all they could get out without breaking into laughs. Glorfindel and Erestor's snickering was not helping at all. Daeron threw them a furious look, and they somehow managed to compose themselves.

"Alright then…" Legolas said, carefully lifting his hand off his face. He looked down as the others inspected his face. He had some dried blood around his mouth and on his lips.

"Can you open your mouth for me, _tithen pen?_ " Elladan asked, pressing softly on Legolas' cheeks. The little Prince obeyed after an encouraging nod from Daeron. Four pair of eyes peered over Elladan's shoulder. "Oh, I see what the problem is." The twin said. "Legolas. I need you to look at me. That's it. I need to do something, but you have to be very very brave and keep still, alright? Will you be the bravest elfling in Imladris?"

"No," he said. "I will be the bravest elfling in Arda. That's what _Nana_ says to me."

Elladan chuckled. "Alright then. The bravest one in Arda." Elladan then extended his hand and put his fingers over the source of the problem. Then, with a quick pull, he got it out. Legolas gasped. Glorfindel immediately scooped the little Prince up and gave him the bow.

"The bravest Prince in Arda with the biggest bow in Arda!" he said, swinging the elfling around. Legolas still had a shocked expression on his face, though he seemed to forget it when he was handed the bow.

Daeron approached Elladan, who was smiling and holding something on his hand. "What is that?" He asked.

The twin turned and opened his hand to reveal a tiny white tooth laying on his palm. Daeron looked at Legolas, still in Glorfindel's arms and looking at the bow as if he were the fiercest warrior in the world, though he was holding it upside down.

"He must have felt it move and thought he was falling all apart," Elrohir laughed. "Legolas!" He then said, calling the little elfling's attention. "Legolas, if you put your tooth under your pillow tonight, a mouse will come to get it and leave you a present!" He cheerfully explained. (1)

Legolas took his eyes from the bow for the first time to look at Elrohir, who froze at the fierce expression. "A mouse… a mouse will get my _tooth_?"

"Oh no." Erestor blanched, yet again.

If someone in Imladris had not been woken by the first tantrum, they were doubtlessly woken by the second one.

* * *

 **And that would be it! If you are interested in more little stories like this one, be sure to let me know! Thanks so much for reading!**

 **(1) 'El ratoncito Pérez' ('little mouse Pérez') is the Spanish version of the Tooth Fairy.**


	2. A name problem

**I will probably regret posting this one-shot, but it seemed kind of nice to me! I have another one, a longer one, ready, but it needs some editing.**

 **Sorry for all the mistakes. It's pretty late in Spain and I've read this a thousand times already. But there will be mistakes. There always are.**

 **Thanks SO much for the reviews. Really, I can't thank you enough.**

 **Summary:** Elladan tries to teach Legolas his father's name, but the Prince will have none of it.

 **Characters:** Legolas and Thranduil.

* * *

A name problem

"No. Thranduil."

"No. _Ada_."

"Yes, _Ada_. And Thranduil."

"No! _Ada_!"

"And Thranduil!"

" _ADA_!"

"Legolas. It's _Ada_ , and Thranduil. King Thranduil, actually."

That was the last straw for the young Prince. He stared in shock at Elladan, then at his father, who was talking to Elrond, and back at the twin. And he started to cry. A _loud_ crying. That got his father's attention, who excused himself from Elrond and walked over the baby.

"Oh, Legolas," he said, scooping his son up on his arms and patting his back affectionally. "What is wrong, my little leaf?"

"He says you are not _Ada_!" Legolas sobbed, pointing at Elladan, who had not completely managed to control his smile just yet.

"I didn't. I told him you were called Thranduil, that's all!"

"But I want _Ada_ to be _Ada_!" Legolas wailing had gotten most of the elves around them silent. "I don't want _Ada_ to be Tanduil!"

The King chuckled. "What Elladan means," he said, throwing an exasperated look at the twin. "is that I am both _Ada_ and Thranduil."

"NO!" Legolas started kicking now. " _ADA_!"

"Legolas. You know Elrond is both Elrond and Elladan's _ada_ , don't you?" His son looked at him, frowning. "Well, it's the same with me! I'm _Ada_ to you, and Thranduil to the rest of them."

"But… but," Legolas pouted, unmindful that he was now the centre of attention. "But, _Ada_ , and Tanduil…" The child looked confused like never before. "But _Ada_!" He buried his face on Thranduil's shoulder and started crying at the top of his lungs.

"Legolas, come on, it's alright. I'm only _Ada_ , not Thranduil." The King conceded, knowing it was a lost battle. When his son put his heart, soul _and_ tears, into something, there was just no way of convincing him otherwise. "We don't want Thranduil, we don't like him, do we?" The King headed for the door, knowing vey well his son's tantrums could go on for what felt like forever. It was a wonder how Legolas' tiny body could produce such a loud voice.

"I don't want Tanduil!" Legolas was almost hysterical by the time they arrived at the prince's nursery.

"And there is no Thranduil. Just _Ada_ , alright?"

Legolas seemed to be content with that, as he stopped screaming.

"Now, that seems like enough excitement for the day, doesn't it? Where is Puppy?" The King looked around, searching for the stuffed puppy his son wouldn't sleep without. "Ah, here it is! Bed-time, Puppy!"

He brought both the stuffed animal and the elfling to the cradle. "Now, time to sleep. No staying awake until _Ada_ and _Nana_ come, no wandering outside the cradle, alright?" The elfling nodded and yawned, all the crying having driven the energy out of him. Thranduil smiled and put a blanket over his little body, kissing Legolas' brow. He then turned and walked towards the door.

" _Ada?_ "

"Yes, my little leaf?"

"Tell Tanduil not to come back."

"He won't, I promise you."

Thranduil was true to his word and, for the rest of their visit, everyone in Imladris ended up calling the mighty King Thranduil of the Woodland realm ' _Ada'_.

* * *

 **Sorry it is so short. I would love to hear something from you, though! Thank you so much! :)**


	3. The balcony

**T** **here is little talking and much feeling, in this chapter but I had a great time writing it and I think it kind of turned out fine enough! Thanks to all the reviewers! I wish I could answer to guest reviewers as well! Your comments make my day!**

 **Summary** : this is the story of a balcony overlooking the forest, just outside Thranduil's study, and the many things that the King sees from there as years go by.

 **Characters** : Legolas and Thranduil, mainly. Some Enery as well, my made up name for Legolas' mother.

* * *

The balcony

Thranduil snorted, scattering away the papers on his table. Trade agreements, updates about the situation on the border, more trade agreements, letters from outside Realms, _more_ trade agreements… this was not how he had planned to spend his afternoon.

He stood up from his chair, eager to escape, if only for a minute, from the tortuous labyrinth of politics in Greenwood. He walked to the balcony, congratulating himself on the bright idea of moving his study to a room overlooking the forest. Stepping outside, he let the soft rays of sun caress his face, while a gentle breeze moved the curtains behind him. He closed his eyes, wishing for this moment to last forever, allowing him a way out from the responsibilities and duties of a King, and providing the much-needed respite from the busy life in court.

A soft voice, brought by the wind, reached his ears, and he smiled.

If he had to identify that voice among a hundred, he would know to whom it belonged. If he had to distinguish it among a thousand, he would know who owned it. If he had to separate it among all voices in Middle Earth, he would still be able to do it without shadow of doubt. For it unmistakably was the voice of his wife. Enery, daughter of the forest and the river, of the leaves and the earth.

Thranduil leaned on the rail, looking for the one who held his heart. He saw her, and realized that she was _really_ holding it, both metaphorically and literally. For Enery was singing to a small bundle in her arms. Legolas, their new born son and heir. Thranduil felt that his heart could burst in a thousand pieces at this picture. It seemed impossible that anyone could feel this way. A pure and raw love, without limits or hindrances. It seemed impossible that someone could survive such a wave of emotion. And yet, Thranduil did, every day, every time he saw them. It was something that made his legs weaken and reduced his strong arms to the most trembling jelly, but at the same time it infused and overwhelmed him with a strength he had never imagined. When he looked at them, he felt capable of everything. Beside them, there was nothing that could stop him, not even the awakening darkness in the east. Thranduil would give his life for them without a second thought.

Smiling again, he shook his head and let the end of Enery's song fill up his senses. But, with the last notes, the papers waiting for him on his table returned to his mind. Sighing bitterly, he turned around and closed the balcony doors. His feet seemed to have turned to lead, but he somehow managed to crawl back to the chair.

Thranduil let that moment pass, cherishing it in his memory but nothing more. He returned to work.

XxX

Thranduil snorted, scattering away the papers on his table. Trade agreements, updates about the situation on the border, more trade agreements, letters from outside realms, _more_ trade agreements… this was not how he had planned to spend his afternoon.

The King tried to focus on his task once again. He had read the same paragraph at least a hundred times, but still could not fully understand what on Arda the King of Lake Town wanted. Either Thranduil had gone mad, or the human King had actually made up words while writing the letter.

A laugh, brought by the wind, reached his ears. He looked up, trying to see past the open doors of his balcony. However, he could not see anything but trees. Delighted to have found an excuse to put aside the unreadable letter, he got up and went out the balcony.

He looked around the green. Several warriors practiced archery, while a group of novices observed, mouth aghast, a sparring match. He felt his heart saddened, for the growing shadow in the east had made it necessary for the warriors to start training again and for many young elves to choose the path of the warrior.

The laughter got his attention again. Pushing the dark thoughts apart, he let his gaze roam until he found its owner. Immediately, a warm feeling invaded him from head to toe. There, near the trees, Legolas was trying to reach the branches of a tree. His mother, Enery, laughed at his small leaps and unsuccessful attempts to reach even the lowest branches. At last, taking pity on him, she lifted him up in her arms and helped him climb the tree. The expression on Legolas' face transformed into one of absolute satisfactions with himself, and happiness when the tree welcomed him among its branches.

Thranduil watched them play, hanging from the branches and trying to reach the fruits. Something quite unroyal, if they asked him. But he had not fallen in love with Enery because of formalism and stiffness. No, he left that to the Noldo. Enery was wild, a warrior who loved the forest and its people deeply. And like mother, like son, for Legolas was identical to Thranduil physically speaking, but his soul was that of his mother's. And Thranduil would not have it other way.

The King smiled, shaking his head and thinking about the papers that awaited him. He turned and closed the balcony doors.

Thranduil let that moment pass, cherishing it in his memory, but nothing more. He returned to work.

XxX

Thranduil snorted, scattering away the papers on his table. Trade agreements, updates about the situation on the border, more trade agreements, letters from outside realms, _more_ trade agreements, and the worst: half-written letters to the families of fallen soldiers. This was not how he had planned to spend his afternoon.

He got up, stretching and trying to get rid of the rigidity that had taken over his body after spending several hours sitting. He looked around, trying to find a way out of the tremendous boredom that engulfed him.

Suddenly, he heard the unforgiving sound of metal clashing. Grimacing, he approached the balcony. Each day, more warriors would leave their homes, riding towards the uncertainty and danger of the forest. Something necessary since the shadow seemed to give them no respite. But something terrible, nonetheless. He closed his eyes, with his heart in a fist. The pain of his people was his pain, and their suffering his own. If only he could make the hordes of darkness disappear, if he could relieve his kingdom of the despair it suffered… oh, what would he give to save Greenwood from darkness and despair. Or Mirkwood, as some had started to call his forest. But he couldn't. He could only guide them as best as he could through the impenetrable night that loomed over them.

"Legolas!" Thranduil heard Enery call.

The King, startled by the alarmed tone, looked for his son. He found him holding a bow. Thranduil gasped. Legolas was still too young to hold a weapon. And yet, despite his tender age, the Prince seemed to have somehow understood his role. Thranduil and Enery had long since decided that they would not subject Legolas to the pressure of becoming a warrior. Legolas could be whatever he may like to be. In fact, Thranduil almost wished his son had found an eagerness in poetry. Legolas the minstrel. He liked the sound of it. The only danger he would find, a writer's block. The only suffering, the inability to rhyme a word. But no, Legolas had always had a disquieting fascination with warriors. Thranduil could not deny that this filled him with pride in a certain way, but he trembled at the consequences.

The King saw his wife snatch the bow away from Legolas, rather forcefully. He saw them argue. He saw Legolas walk away towards the palace. And he saw Enery sigh defeated, her shoulders drooping.

Thranduil shivered. He turned and closed the balcony doors.

Thranduil let that moment pass, trying to erase it from his memory. He returned to work.

XxX

Thranduil did not snort this time. Nor did he scatter away the papers that covered his table. Actually, there really weren't that much papers lately. Only some letters from kings and queens lamenting their loss. Being sorry for the death of a Queen they had never met. Hypocrites.

It had been a long time since Thranduil had last cried. His eyes had dried. He had no strength, or perhaps he had tired of crying. Who knows. There was only one certainty: tears were not going to bring Enery back.

He let out a trembling sigh. Suddenly, a soft cry reached his ears.

He knew to whom it belonged. Of course he knew. He got up, walking slowly to the balcony. The night was clear, and the starts shone brightly. Enery loved this kind of nights.

His black clothes merged with the dark landscape. Thranduil stared at the horizon, trying to ignore the forest underneath it. The forest she had loved. The forest she had been born in. And the forest she had died in.

Again, the sobs got his attention. He looked down, finding a thin dark shape kneeling in front of a bench. The soft glow of golden hair gave the identity of the elf away. Legolas. His head was between his arms, which rested on the cold surface of the stone bench. And his shoulder shook as he cried.

This public demonstration of feelings was not usual in Legolas. His son was more of a wounded animal when hurt, licking his wounds in private. But no. This was too much. This surpassed everyone, even him.

Thranduil felt what little remained of his heart shatter. It almost physically hurt. But, who was he trying to fool, he could not feel anything anymore. Thranduil was nothing now. He had lost his flame of hope in the darkness.

Thranduil felt his throat closing, eyes filling with tears. He could not breath. How was he supposed to continue living now? Without the one who had filled his days with love and happiness? Without his other half?

The King turned around. For a moment he hesitated. He wanted to go down and comfort his son. To hold him in his arms.

But he didn't.

Thranduil let that moment pass, closing the balcony doors. He cried.

XxX

Thranduil snorted, scattering away the papers on his table. Trade agreements, updates about the situation on the border, more trade agreements, letters from outside realms, _more_ trade agreements, letter to the families of fallen soldiers, that had sadly become the norm, rather than the exception. This was not how he had planned to spend his afternoon.

Two loud knocks at the door got Thranduil out of his thoughts. Before he could answer, and elf with golden hair and deep blue eyes stepped into his study.

" _Ada_ , I'm leaving now."

Thranduil sighed. He knew that this moment had to come, and he had feared it since Elrond had asked for him or a representative of his realm to attend a secret council in Imladris. Something had happened. Something was stirring in the east. Thranduil knew it, Thranduil _felt_ it. And he had a suspicion of what it could be. It was like a soft whisper, coming from the darkest corners of his mind. But he refused to think it true.

The King stood up, laying his hands on his son's shoulders affectionately. "May the Valar accompany you." His hand stroked Legolas' cheek.

The Prince laughed. "You look like we were not going to see each other again, _Ada._ I will be back in a few days, worry not." He said, covering his father's hand with his own.

"I have a bad feeling, Legolas. Please be careful."

"I will. I promise you. I will see you soon."

And with that, he was gone.

Thranduil could not help himself. He walked to the balcony and leaned out. There, he saw Daeron, waiting for the Prince. Legolas merrily walked down the main entrance's stairs. He climbed on his horse.

Thranduil felt a twinge of anguish. This was not going to be an ordinary trip. He knew something was about to change. He did not know what or why, but something kept him awake at night. He had not been blessed, or cursed, with the gift of foresight, but Thranduil could have sworn something lurked on the horizon.

His sight landed in the east. Far, far away, even beyond the realms of Men, an evil stirred, awakening from a dream it should never have returned from, trying to extend its dark tentacles through Middle Earth.

"Do not dare," he hissed at it. "do not dare hurt him. Do not dare touch a single hair on his head. Do not approach him, do not lay your eyes on him. Leave him be." Somehow, Thranduil felt that his words were being heard. "He has suffered enough on your account. Leave him be. Or you will have to face me. I may only be an elf, but I swear I will tear this world apart until we face each other. And, even if all around me is terror and despair, I will destroy you. Even if it's the last thing I do. I _swear_ you."

Thranduil shuddered. In the distance, he thought he saw the glow of a fire. But no, it could not be. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Legolas was right. Nothing would happen. He had to trust his son.

He looked down. Legolas and Daeron were about to disappear into the trees.

Thranduil had to fight the temptation to go down, grab his son and lock him in the palace's most impregnable dungeon. But no. He restrained himself. That was not the way of kings.

Thranduil let that moment pass, closing the balcony doors. He sat down and did something he had not done in a long time. He prayed.

XxX

Thranduil snorted, scattering away the papers on his table. Trade agreements were the only thing that filled it now. The most boring task of all, no doubt, but the King could not help feeing grateful. It was not that there were only trade agreements, but that there was nothing else. No border updates. No letters to families of fallen soldier. Only trade agreements. Thranduil was almost, _almost_ , eager to get to work.

Suddenly, he felt something. He froze on his chair. Something that he had not felt in a long time. Something he had wished to feel, that he had spent innumerable sleepless nights imploring the Valar for. Something that had stretched, never breaking, but not as close as it should. And that something had returned.

That _someone_ was coming back. He was coming home.

Trembling, he strode his study. 'Please, do not let me be mistaken.' He thought. 'Please, let it be true.'

He opened the doors of his balcony, and, at the same time, he heard the hasty footsteps of a group of elves heading to his study, no doubt to inform him of the news. But it was not necessary, because Thranduil already knew. He had felt it.

Down on the green, a large crowd of elves had gathered. They looked expectantly at the trees, which whispered and moved their leaves as never before. Without a doubt, something wonderful was about to happen. Thranduil had to hold on to the balcony rail. He squinted his eyes, trying to see something through the trees.

And suddenly, there it was. Fresh as the first day, but with an air of solemnity and security around him. Legolas, his son and heir Legolas. He was coming home. Returning from a war that had carried him away from his father. Thranduil felt his heart swell with pride and love. Tears filled his eyes. He let out a soft sigh, lowering his head and closing his eyes.

'Thank you.' He simply said. To whom, he did not now. To the Valar. To Enery, maybe. It did not matter.

When he opened his eyes again, he found his son staring at him from the green, smiling.

Thranduil did not let that moment pass. He closed the balcony doors, and also the study doors behind him, hurrying down to the palace's entrance. And, when he finally held his son in his arms, he realized something.

 _King_ Thranduil had stayed in the study, with his papers and politics. The one who was here, surrounded by claiming elves, was not the King of Greenwood, but simply Legolas' father.

Because there and then, Thranduil realized that he was first father, and only second, King.

* * *

 **That's it. What do you think? Should I stick with humour and little Legolas? Or would you like to (sometimes) read more serious fics like this one. It is my first attempt at a darkest one shot, so forgive me if it didn't turn out that fine! The idea on my head was cool, I can promise you that.**

 **I thought of writing a sequel to this one, this time from Legolas perspective. Would you like that?**


	4. A wine problem

**A big big thank you for all the reviewers of last chapter! Guest reviewers, I wish I could message you! Thank you, anyway. I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **BTW, in all my stories** **Thranduil will be the most caring, protective and loving father** **, though I can't resist to a bit of confused Thranduil when caring for baby Legolas! I know of many first-time fathers who worship their firstborns but haven't got a clue as to how to care for them. Well, that's my Thranduil!**

 **Summary:** Two identical cups. One with wine, the other with milk. Confusion is granted!

 **Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil, Elrond.

* * *

A Wine Problem

King Thranduil Oropherion of the Woodland Realm, protector of both Silvan and Sindar folk, only defence against the waking darkness of the forest, liked to think of himself as a competent elf.

Feared by some, loved by many and respected by all, he had shown all the makings of a great general and leader since his early years as a warrior, and so he had proven himself at the Battle of Dagorlad. And even after it, when his father had fallen, he had somehow found strength to go back to the forest and rule over a grieving realm. And, oh, had he led the way. With him, Greenwood had flourished.

With his skills for negotiation they had agreed upon many trade agreements that had allowed his people to enrich themselves. Thanks to his implacable will of iron, men had learnt that the woods were his, and, while he would allow small human settlements, he would have no outlaws roaming around the trees. Only his wisdom had made it possible for Sindas and Silvans alike to learn from each other, and they all had found a place in his court.

But most important, it had been his kindness and compassion for others what had allowed his realm to perdure. The Elven Realms and Havens across Middle Earth had never been so close, and that was, partly, because of Thranduil's relationship with Lord Elrond of Imladris. A friendship that had only been born because of Greenwood's King heart. The Noldor were rather stiff, and they had little desire to stretch their arms towards their less wise kind. But Thranduil had made them see that it was not that they were not inclined towards the high arts, but that they did not have the time they did to embellish their knowledge. They had to protect the woods. They did not have a magic ring. They only had the power of their arms.

So King Thranduil was a top warrior, a wise leader, an unmovable force, all topped with a golden heart. All in all, he was the best King any realm could ask for. Sometimes, his people wondered if there was something their King was _not_ good at.

And then, Legolas had been born. And Thranduil had found out that, when he was around his son, he was reduced to an absolutely incompetent _fool._

It was not that King Thranduil was not good with babies. He had held and cared for enough of his friend's sons and daughters in the past to consider himself somehow experienced. But this child of his, this princeling… he was something else. Maybe it was the mix of blood. Thranduil was Sinda, while Enery was Silvan. Maybe that combination gave him an extra boost of energy. Valar only know. For all his reputation of the perfect King, Thranduil was at a loss as to how to handle his own son. He knew of his incompetence. And Legolas knew too, for the first time the King had held him in his arms, he had started crying as if he was being handed to an orc.

And that is why Thranduil was not startled by Legolas sudden crash into a door. Sure, it was clearly closed. Sure, Legolas did have elven sight. Sure, any normal _being_ would not have ran towards a perfectly visible closed door. But this was his son he was watching over. He ought not be surprised if Legolas suddenly turned into a tornado and turned Elrond's study upside down, only to fall angelically asleep the minute after.

Thranduil turned his eyes to the elfling to make sure he was fine. He saw Legolas awkwardly stand up, for he had yet to master the art of walking, and decided his son was safe and sound. He looked at Elrond again, returning to their conversation.

"So Erestor advised to invite the rangers to Imladris so we could-"

 _CRASH!._

Both Elrond and Thranduil were startled at the noise. Legolas had walked into a wall, head first. The baby blinked several times, bringing a hand to his forehead. And then, he got up again, swaying dangerously to the side.

"Oh Valar, is he alright?" Elrond half rose, but Thranduil waved him to his seat again and walked towards Legolas himself.

"He is fine." He said. Unfortunately, Legolas had taken blows _much_ harder than this one, and, miraculously enough, he was always fine. Thranduil believed his son's head was made of iron. "I don't know what has gotten into him, though. I hope he does not make a habit of crashing into doors and walls." He grabbed Legolas's little hands and helped him walk over the carpet where wooden horses and soldiers were sprawled all over. "Only he would neglect such wonderful toys to whack himself around the place. Now, Legolas, stay _here_ , alright? Let Ada and Lord Elrond talk."

Legolas looked up to him with his big blue eyes. Then he switched his attention for the much more interesting wooden horse his father was handing him. Thranduil sighed and, chuckling, he returned by Lord Elrond's side, who was watching father and son interaction fondly.

"I miss the days when the twins and Arwen were his age." He said.

"Oh, you can have Legolas for yourself if you want." The King said, sitting in the couch. "For a few days, that's it. Enery would kill me if she though I have gifted his son, and Daeron would skin me alive. I don't think it would be wise of me to return to my own realm, actually. I would find myself surrounded by bloodthirsty elves screaming for their Prince."

Elrond laughed. "Oh, _mellon_ , I'm afraid there is much truth behind your words. But you may be spared of all that. I strongly suspect the twins, Arwen _and_ Glorfindel plan to kidnap your son. He is just impossible to resist to!"

"He is a darling. A handful, unstoppable little darling. He has all of us around his little finger."

"Greenwood ruled by a little elfling." Teased Elrond.

"Oh, my dear friend. You have no idea." Thranduil confessed, chuckling and bringing the cup of wine to his lips.

Only that it wasn't wine.

He sputtered, taken by surprise at the uncharacteristically sweet flavour of the liquid. "What…?" He looked down at the cup and his eyebrows shot in surprise when he saw a white substance on it. His heart skipped a beat, as he came to realization. "Oh no. Oh, no, no, no." He abruptly got up, turning for his son. Legolas was not where he had left him mere seconds ago.

"What is it?" Elrond asked, alarmed at the King's odd behaviour. He picked Thranduil's cup up and looked at its contents. "Thranduil, why are you drinking milk?" He looked at the King, who now had in his hand an identical cup that he had just retrieved from the floor. Near where Legolas had been playing. And it was _empty_. Down to the last drop. Thranduil looked horrified.

"Is that the cup we gave Legolas to drink?." The Lord of Imladris asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

Thrnaduil nodded, dreadfully.

"The one that we thought had milk on it?"

Thranduil nodded again.

"And this," Elrond looked down at the cup with milk, gulping, "this is the one we thought had wine on it.

Thranduil bit his lip, paling.

"But then…"

"We mistakenly gave Legolas my cup. The one with wine on it."

Shamefully enough, it took both of them a few seconds to react.

"Legolas!" Thranduil finally managed, as he trashed around the room trying to find his son. "Oh Valar, that's why he kept crashing into things. Elrond, my baby son is _drunk_. _DRUNK!"_

"Stop talking and find him, Thranduil. He needs help before he harms himself." Elrond did not mention what would happen after the alcohol's euphoric effect dimmed. He did not even want to think about a hangover elfling.

"Where on Arda is he? Legolas!" Thranduil called again. "This is not a game, Legolas. Come to _ada_ , _saes!_ ".

Elrond frantically crouched to look under the desk, but there was no elfling there. He walked over all his study, wondering how could an elfling hide that well. He suddenly felt a hand on his arm, stopping his search. Thranduil was looking at something, wide eyed. Elrond followed his gaze.

The door. The door was open. There was a little stool under the door, and it was wide open.

"Oh no."

Both elves run to the corridor, looking around in hope to see a swaying little elfling. Nothing. That was definitely not their lucky day.

"Oh Valar, Elrond. What are we going to do?" Thranduil asked, anguish clearly written all over his face and trembling voice.

Elrond forced himself to take a deep breath. "We are going to find him, Thranduil. I promise you. We are going to ask for help and form search parties. We will have him under our care within the hour, I promise."

"No, Elrond, you do not understand. He knows how to hide. He won't be found if he doesn't want to. What if has gone to the forest?" Thranduil paled even more, if possible.

Elrond thought for a moment that finding a baby could not be that difficult. But then again, it was little Legolas they were talking about. "Thranduil," He placated, holding his friend's hands. "we are going to find him. And if he had gone to the forest, surely someone would have seen him. The guards by the doors, or the warriors, _someone_. They know to be vigilant for him."

"Be vigilant for whom?"

Elrond and Thranduil froze. Slowly, they turned to face their wives, standing but a few feet from them and looking at them with suspicious eyes.

"Be vigilant for _whom_ , _melleth_?" Queen Enery asked again.

"For Legolas, darling." Thranduil cleared his voice and tried again, hoping to sound surer of himself than he felt. "So that he does not come to any harm."

"And why should he come to any harm while he is under the watch of his father?"

"No reason."

" _Melleth_ ," Enery asked again, with a warning clear on her voice. "where is my son?"

"He is my son too, you know." Thranduil refrained from speaking further when he saw his wife's dangerous stare. "He, ah… I don't know."

If looks could kill, Thranduil would be dead right now.

"Please, elaborate." The Queen just said.

"What he means," Elrond gracefully intervened. "Is that we have temporally misplaced the Prince."

"One does _not_ misplaces a Prince, Elrond." Celebrian confronted his husband. "And certainly, not one that took his first steps only days ago."

"Let us discuss your incompetence later, Thranduil. I want my son in my arms _right now_. As Celebrian said," Enery took his good friend's arm. "he is barely walking. We shouldn't have that much trouble finding him."

"Ahh, we _may_ have a bit of trouble, my love."

"Really Thranduil. If you end your sentences _that_ open, Legolas will be a full-grown elf by the time we find him." Enery was looking murderous now.

"I'm so sorry, Enery. I really am. I think Legolas _may_ … no, he _did_ , he… he… he drank, _mistakenly_ drank, my cup of wine." Thranduil could not recall being so ashamed before. Or afraid, for that matter.

Enery stared. 'Legolas has inherited that same stare. Like mother, like son.' Thranduil thought, though he did not really know why he was occupying his mind on such trivial things when he was about to get strangled by his wife.

"Elrond?" Celebrian broke the icy silence.

"I'm afraid it is true." The Lord answered.

"So right now my baby, who I presume _drunk_ , is somewhere lost around the corridors of this house, which he does not know. And, taking into account how energetic he seems to be when sober," Enery winced at the word related to his son. "one can only imagine in what state of… euphoria, he must be right now."

"I-" Thranduil started, stepping towards his wife but stopping when she raised her hand.

"We will discuss this matter later, Thranduil. First, we _must_ find him."

Elrond and Thranduil nodded.

"I will find Glorfindel." Elrond volunteered. "He will gather a search party in no time. We will find him, I promise you." He then left, with Celebrian trailing behind him and ushering angry words.

Thranduil and Enery were left alone. The Queen took a deep breath. Thranduil pressed his lips into a thin line.

"I am going to find my son, King Thranduil. And then, we are going to talk."

Thranduil just nodded.

XxX

Turns out, Enery was not the only one Thranduil should have been worried about.

"ONE afternoon, Thranduil. ONE! I left him with you for one afternoon. And I return to find Prince Legolas _drunk_ and lost somewhere around the labyrinthic corridors of this House."

"Hardly labyrinthic, Daeron…"

"Don't try to make up excuses for yourself. We are going to find him, and then we are going to have a little talk about caring for babies, my _King_." Daeron spoke those words sarcastically enough.

Had Daeron not been Thranduil's friend since before he could even remember, and had the King not been so ashamed, he may have considered calling him to order. But Thranduil knew how much Daeron cared for his son, and could not berate his friend's words, born from fear for Legolas.

They had been looking for over an hour now. No one had seen Legolas. Not even Glorfindel and his group of experienced warriors had managed to find a trace of him. The kitchen staff, the stables staff, the healers, not one elf had seen him. The twins had turned the rooms upside down, Arwen and Erestor had looked all over the library and Glorfindel had, thankfully, returned empty handed from the armoury.

They all came together to the Hall of Fire, where they had set up their base in their search of the Prince.

"No one?" Thranduil asked, with a hint of desperation on his voice. He saw all the elves shook their heads, looking almost as desperate as him. Almost. For Thranduil had been nurturing a black pit on his stomach that had only grown bigger and bigger as minutes went by. His wife clutched his arms painfully, all grievances long forgotten and replaced by anguish.

"I am afraid we must face the truth." Glorfindel said, stepping forward and looking at the Greenwood elves with sad eyes. "He must have somehow gone to the forest. Me and my warriors will immediately organize a-" Glorfindel stopped talking rather abruptly. His eyes gazed towards somewhere above the King's head, mouth aghast.

Thranduil turned. Besides him, he felt his wife do the same. Over the Hall, a collective gasp filled the air.

The Hall of Fire was full of shelves. They were impressively big ones, anchored to the walls, where different objects were exhibited. Many were filled with old books, some contained beautiful rare flowers, others had various gifts form afar and one, _one_ , was full of deadly ceremonial weapons.

Guess in which one's top level Legolas was happily crawling in.

"No…" Thranduil gasped. He was not sure who was holding who, he his wife or the other way around. How ever it may be, he was sure that, without her support, he would have fallen down.

Elrond was quick to hush them all. "Don't speak too loud." He warned. "Otherwise, we may startle him and make him fall."

'Or stumble with the knives. Or the arrows. Or the swords." Thranduil thought, though he did not voice it. There were enough ready-to-faint looking elves as it was.

"Daeron." Thranduil called, making up his mind.

Daeron nodded, immediately understanding what the King meant. They approached the shelf, each on one side. Then, they started to climb it.

No one on the Hall dared to move. They watched in silence the two swiftly climbing elves and the crawling baby on the top. Legolas kept moving forward, dodging weapons on his way. Where he thought he was going, they did not know.

'Weren't the situation so horrifying, this would be the funniest thing I have seen." Elrond thought. The King of the largest Elven Realm climbing through his shelves. Elrond could only be grateful they had decided to anchor them to the walls.

Thranduil and Daeron had almost reached the top when Legolas decided it was a good time to try to stand up. He grabbed the shaft of an arrow and pushed himself upwards. Legolas took some stumbling steps, laughing as he did. He looked in awe at his father's face, that had suddenly appeared in his field of vision.

"Hello, _ion-nin_." He said. Thranduil noticed the flushed cheeks, bright eyes and swaying movements. Textbook drunk. He offered Legolas his hand, but could not reach him by inches. "Come, my little leaf." He urged him forwards.

But Legolas frowned at him and turned his face. Daeron was looking at him from behind, trying to reach the Prince. Just as Thranduil, he missed him by inches. Legolas looked back at his father. The movement made him dizzy and he stumbled forward.

Enery gasped as she stepped towards the shelf when she saw her son fall forward, sure that he would fall off the shelf.

But Thranduil was quicker. Legolas was finally on his reach, and he grabbed him by the arm.

"Come here, you little rascal." He muttered, as he pulled the Prince to his chest. "Hold fast, Legolas, we are going down."

Somehow Thranduil managed to get down the shelf while holding the little Prince on his arms. Every cloud had a silver lining, and while Legolas was unmistakably drunk, he was also too dizzy to struggle out of the King's arms. Instead, he hid his face on his father's chest, closing his eyes.

They were received by many expecting and anxious faces. The Queen run to his son, taking him from Thranduil's arms and holding him vey close to her. "Oh, my son, my little leaf." She said, covering him with kisses.

Legolas had been too fuzzed by all the movement before but now, safely in his mother's arms and finding himself the centre of attention, he started to sob. And so, the sob became crying.

"He must feel very dizzy, Enery." Elrond said, his healer's instincts kicking in. "The wine was a strong one, and he drank far too much for his little body. Let's go to the Healing Ward."

XxX

Some soft drugs and unpleasant episodes of a sick and crying baby, Legolas was finally sleeping on his mother's arms. Enery had not let go of his son for the whole ordeal, not allowing Thranduil to switch places for one moment, even though he insisted on several occasions. Elrond and Celebrian had not left the room either, sitting next to the bed.

"He is finally asleep." Enery told them. Legolas' sleep had always been astonishingly deep one, so they were not fearful of waking him up with their talk. Elrond got up and was pleased to find the elfling's heart rate had returned to a normal slower pace.

"He will be fine."

Thranduil sighed in relief. He had sat on the bed near his wife and son all the time, feeling extremely ashamed and worried. It had been his fault, after all. If he had payed more attention to Legolas, if he had watched out for whatever his son was drinking, they would not be in this situation now. Had anything happened to Legolas, he would never have forgiven himself. Never.

He looked at his wife, who returned the gaze.

Then, she smiled and reached for his hand. Thranduil frowned, surprised but pleased. He had thought his wife would be angry at him.

"You are not to blame, _melleth_." She reassured him. "At least no entirely. Those cups really were identical. And this son of mine seems to find his way to mischief every time he can." She looked fondly upon the sleeping baby.

"Nevertheless, I really am sorry, Enery."

"I know. Don't worry about it now. Just be glad he is safe."

Thranduil nodded and looked at his son. He was in deep sleep, looking painless and graceful. He did not envy the baby's headache in the morning though. He winced at the thought.

"On another matter," Elrond intervened. "how did Legolas managed to climb that high up? He can't even walk properly yet."

"You forget, Elrond. He _is_ my son. He is half Silvan. And us Silvan always learn how to climb trees at a young age." Enery said.

"He has been able to climb for years now, Elrond." Thranduil explained. "Something which, I might add, has given us _many_ headaches."

Elrond and Celebrian looked at the couple in shock. "Already he can climb?"

"Don't forget the wild on the Silvan, dear friends." Thranduil teased, thankful that his wife was holding Legolas. Otherwise, he would have doubtlessly gotten smacked on the head.

"That he is." Enery conceded instead. "Our sweet wild child."

Thranduil got closer and looked fondly at the baby. "Our sweet wild _drunk_ son."

Nothing could spare him of the whack to his head this time.

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed it, and I'm really sorry if you didn't! I can't wait to hear from you! Meanwhile, Thranduil will be learning how to properly take care of babies. And it does not include giving them cups of wine!**


	5. A fever problem

**This was supposed to be short. Until it wasn't.**

 **Thank you SO much to all the reviewers, followers, and people who added the story to their favourite list (… favouriters?). Guest reviewers, you are very much appreciated, even if I can't PM you personally!**

 **Summary:** Legolas is supposed to be in bed with a fever, but he is bored and wants to go outside. Thranduil _really_ should have known better…

 **Characters:** Thranduil, Legolas.

* * *

 **A fever problem**

"Thranduil, it's only a fever. Perfectly normal."

"Are you sure? He seems to be really cold."

"Well, it may surprise you, but feeling cold is one of fever's effects."

"Yes, but- "

"Thranduil," Kaela put his hand on the King's shoulder, smiling reassuringly, "he is fine. I promise you."

Thranduil sighed, exchanging looks between the Head of Healers and his son, who was sleeping under a ton of blankets, eyes closed as was usual in babies.

"Elves are not supposed to get sick," he said, still unsure.

Kaela rolled his eyes, both exasperated at the King's worry and touched by his love for the little Prince. "Thranduil, he is a baby, you know perfectly well elves develop resistance to sickness as they grow older. Just let him rest and I promise you he will be his usual self in a few days."

"Oh, dear." Thranduil groaned. Don't let it be said that the King of Greenwood didn't want his son to be healthy, but Legolas' 'usual self' meant a little tornado running up and down the palace. Thranduil watched Kaela take a small bottle from his healer's bag.

"Give him this when he wakes up, it will help with the discomfort," he told the King, handing him what looked like a foul potion. "It already has honey on it."

Thranduil nodded, looking at the healer with pleading eyes. Kaela laughed.

"Don't look so desperate, Thranduil. I promise you he is perfectly fine." Then, sighing, he added, "I can stay if you want…"

"No." Thranduil shook his head. How ever worried he may be, he knew the head of healers had lots of work to do and had little time to spare for novice fathers who panicked over a fever. "Go. I will call you if I need you."

Kaela nodded, looking fondly at the small bundle on the bed and peeling away the blankets from over Legolas' head. The little Prince had the habit of covering every single inch of his body, something that Kaela found distressing, but had been unable to prevent. No matter how many times someone took the blankets off his head, Legolas would always manage to get under them again. He stroked the flushed cheek, feeling the heat of his skin.

"He will be fine." The healer said again, getting his bag and walking towards the door. He looked at Thranduil, who was still clutching the bottle and looking at his son. "I will be at the Healer's Ward, my King."

Thranduil nodded, and Kaela left the room. The King looked at the closed door, resisting the urge to go after the healer and make him sit with them _just in case_. Because no one knew with his son. Thranduil shook his head. He was being silly, and he knew it. He sat on the bed, tossing a golden strand of hair off his son's face.

Suddenly, Legolas cracked his eyelids open. Two blue almond-shaped eyes looked at him, bright with fever.

"Hey, my little leaf," Thranduil whispered, stroking his son's cheek. Legolas squeezed his eyes, sliding further down the blankets.

"Ada," He said in a small voice.

"What is it?" Thranduil frowned at his son's unusual quiet voice.

"I am cold."

"I know, my child. You are sick and you have a fever. But look! Kaela gave me this so you feel better!" Thranduil tried to look lightened up, knowing his son's distaste for potions. He removed the cork, lifting Legolas up with his other hand. He winced at the uncharacteristic heat irradiating from his son's body. "Here."

Legolas sniffed at the contents, grimacing. "No," he said, turning his head away.

Thranduil sighed. This was going to be quite a battle. "Legolas, this will make you feel better."

"I don't want to!" the child said, twisting in his father's arm.

"But if you don't feel better, I will be very sad!" the King negotiated, trying to keep his son still.

"You drink it."

"Legolas, come on. Do this for _ada_ , alright?"

Legolas looked at his father, pouting. Wide eyes were pleading at the King to cede in his demand, but Thranduil was having none of it. This was for Legolas' own benefit, even it didn't seem like it to him. He put the bottle on his son's lips, who frowned but opened his mouth, too tired to wrestle any more. Thranduil tilted it, and Legolas drank, making a face.

"That's it, it wasn't so bad!"

Legolas threw him a furious look, sinking into the comfort of his bed. Thranduil tucked the blankets around him.

'So much for _feed a cold, starve a fever_ ,' he thought. But he could not bear to see his son cold.

"Ada," Legolas called again, closing his eyes.

"Yes?" Thranduil took his son's little hand on his own.

"Will you stay with me today?"

Thranduil supressed a groan. He was supposed to be at the Council Room in less than an hour, but he could not leave his son like this. Enery was away in Lothlórien, and his son deserved someone to be with him in his misery. The Elven Lords would have to forgive him, but he had a sick son to look after.

"Yes, my little leaf," he said, rubbing his nose on Legolas' cheek, eliciting a small chuckle from the elfling.

"Ada."

"Yes?"

"Will you read me a book?"

"Of course, my little leaf. I'm all yours for the day."

XxX

True to Kaela's words, Legolas' fever lowered a bit after a few hours. It was still high enough to drain the energy out of his poor son, but not to prevent the dreadful words out of Legolas' mouth.

"I am bored."

Thranduil had learnt to fear those three words a long time ago. "Would you like to sleep a little?"

"No."

"Do you want me to read another book?"

"No."

"What do you want to do then?" Thranduil sighed.

Legolas looked towards the window, wishfully. "I want to go out."

"You can't go out, Legolas. You are sick."

"I am not sick anymore, see?" Legolas sat on the bed, proving to his father that he was perfectly healthy and able of going outside.

"You only _feel_ better because of Kaela's medicine, Legolas. You are still sick."

"No, I am not. I want to go outside! Can we visit Daeron?"

"Legolas…"

"Please, _ada_."

"I don't know, Legolas… alright, alright," he said when his son looked at him with puppy eyes. "I'll make you a deal. I will go ask Kaela about you going out, alright? He says yes, we go see Daeron."

Legolas seemed to think about it for a second, but nodded when he saw his father's decided expression. "Alright," he conceded.

Thranduil got up, looking warningly at his son. "Stay put."

Legolas nodded and watched his father leave his room. He sighed, sinking into the pillows. Surely Kaela would allow him out, wouldn't him? He had drunk the medicine and he felt much better than before. But, now that he thought of it, Kaela had not allowed him to get rid of the sling even after Legolas had assured him he could move his arm perfectly. Nor had he allowed Legolas to go to Imladris because of a little coughing.

Legolas humphed, convinced now that Kaela would not only forbid him out of bed, but that he would take him to the Healing Ward. He may even confine him there for a week, just like he had done when Legolas had gotten lost in the forest that past winter. No, Legolas was not going to suffer through that again if he could help it. He climbed down his bed, wincing at the cold floor under his bare feet, and shivering at the sudden absence of blankets.

He got to the wardrobe, dragging a stool with him so he could reach the knob. Standing on his tiptoe, Legolas managed to get the door open. He looked at the immensity of the shelves, full of clothes. His father usually told him he was the elfling with the biggest collection of clothes he had ever seen. And his father was very old, he must have seen lots of wardrobes.

Legolas grew exasperated as he looked for a cloak. He would have left his room without it, but _nana_ said no respectable elf would go out of his room in his sleeping clothes.

"Where is it?" he muttered. "Ah, there!"

The clear blue cloak was by far his favourite. Everyone told him he looked cute and they would give him cookies whenever he wore it. Legolas reached for it, thankful that it was not in the top levels.

He climbed down the stool, clasping the cloak around his shoulders and putting his shoes on. Then, he walked to the window, pausing only slightly to check the door. His father would be furious to find Legolas was not in bed. But he only wanted to say hello to the trees. Just for a second. He deserved it.

Legolas opened the balcony doors and easily climbed the railing and grabbed the vine that grew on the wall. He had done this before, though his father did not know. Yet.

The ground was not far, and Legolas managed to reach it without anyone seeing him. That was the easy part. Now he had to cross the field where the warriors trained, and where Arthem and Aradan, his father's army leaders, were sure to be supervising them. Maybe even Daeron was there. He ought to be careful if he didn't want to be seen, for he was confident they had eyes on the back of their heads. Every time Legolas did something remotely suspicious, either one of them would find him and report him to his father. It was exhausting.

Legolas decided that the wisest course of action would be to cross the green running very near the lake. There were two main risks to it: that area was used for archery, and Legolas would be running just in between the paths of the arrows and the targets; and Legolas did not know how to swim, so his father always got very angry whenever he even approached the lake. But it was the farthest way from where the teachers used to stand.

He looked to his right, and saw Daeron, Arthem and Aradan talking at the far end of the field. The novices where readying their bows, but the targets where nowhere to be seen, so Legolas supposed he still had time before they started shooting.

Making up his mind, Legolas broke into a sprint. From the corner of his eyes, he saw his father's friends still talking. He was going to make it! He reached the lake shore. The trees were close now. He smiled, confident and proud with his almost successful deed. He was so close…

"NO! HOLD YOUR FIRE!" A panicked voice startled him. "HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

Legolas stopped frozen on his run. He turned and everything happened sluggishly. He saw Daeron running towards him, with Aradan and Arthem following close. The novices were standing in line, all with arrows on the arrow rest. All but one. A line of apples fell, and Legolas suddenly realized why there were no targets. They were practicing with moving objectives. All the apples were accounted for, unscratched. All but one. Legolas looked up and gasped at the flying arrow falling towards him. It embedded itself on the ground a few feet away from Legolas, but it was enough to scare the little prince. He jumped backwards, his foot finding nothing but air.

Legolas fell to the cold and dark waters of the lake. The heavy cloak dragged him towards the depth, but he was unable to unclasp it. His lungs started to burn from lack of air, and he thought back to the warmth of his bed, where he realized he should have stayed. And his father. Oh, how sad his father would be if Legolas did not manage to break surface. He was starting to feel drowsy, the cloak still dragging him down.

Legolas barely noticed the strong arms grabbing him, but all of a sudden he felt the cold air brushing his wet hair as he took several gasping breaths. He opened his eyes and saw Daeron. The warrior cleared the strands of hair away from his face.

"Are you alright?!" he asked, panic clear on his voice.

Legolas did not answer, but put his arms around Daeron's neck, hiding his face on the wet tunic and coughing. He felt the warrior's arms embrace him close to his body as he swam to the shore. Daeron lifted him towards someone, and he found himself enfolded in a familiar tunic. He looked up.

"Oh, _ada_ ," he said.

His father's face was red in anger, though he was surprisingly gentle as he unclasped Legolas' wet cloak and re-arranged the tunic so no part of his body was exposed to the cold breeze.

"Never in my life have I found a more troublesome and disobedient child, Legolas! You must be mad indeed, running like that under the arrows. Do you know how worried I was when I did not find you in your room? And when I saw you falling to the lake? What if an arrow had hit you?"

"Thranduil." Aradan's placating voice cut Thranduil's reprimand. The King looked at him, and the elf nodded towards Legolas. Only then did he notice his son was trembling, weakly stifling harsh coughs and looking at him with teary eyes. Thranduil immediately felt his heart melt.

"Oh, Legolas," he said kissing his forehead. "You scared me very much, _ion-nin_."

"I'm sorry." A tiny voice came from somewhere among the big tunic, followed by a wet cough.

"We will talk later. Let's go see Kaela, alright?"

Thankfully, Legolas was either feeling to miserable or embarrassed, maybe both, to complain.

Thranduil had never reached the Healing Ward so fast, and yet it felt like the longest walk of his life. His son feeble coughs had not stopped, and Thranduil was fairly sure his fever was returning by the minute.

The moment he put foot on the Healing Ward, two healers took charge of the situation, one of them leading the King towards the private room the Prince used and the other looking for Kaela. Thankfully, there were not many elves who required the Head of Healer's attention, so Kaela was with them mere minutes after.

"I only left you hours ago, little prince! What have you gotten yourself into now?" He took him from his father's arms, noticing the trembling and coughs.

"I fell to the lake," Legolas softly answered.

"And how come you were anywhere _near_ the lake?"

"Yes, how come you were there, Legolas?" Thranduil intervened, which made Legolas hid himself further in Kaela's robes. The healer hugged him protectively.

"There will be time for explanations later. Let's get you out of these wet clothes, alright?"

Kaela sat Legolas on the soft bed, walking towards the small wardrobe. The Prince had had to stay on this room far too many times before, so they kept some of his spare clothes there just in case. He got a warm sleeping tunic, and both he and Thranduil helped him dress again.

"Alright, now," he said, brushing the golden hair away from Legolas' face. "Can you take a deep breath for me?"

Legolas did as instructed, occasionally glancing at his father, who was standing arms crossed near the bed. His breath caught and he coughed.

"Alright, alright." The healer felt his forehead, turning towards Thranduil. "There is a little bit of water on his lungs. Not much," he added at Thranduil's panicked face. "But enough to make his breathing uncomfortable. I will teach him some breathing exercises so he can cough up the rest of the liquid."

"But he will be alright?"

"Yes, it won't be pleasant, but he will. You can go, if you have things to do," he told Thranduil.

Even if Legolas had not immediately turned to look at him with big pleading eyes, Thranduil would have not even thought of leaving his son like this. "You are stuck with both of us, I'm afraid."

XxX

Thranduil startled awake, not remembering falling asleep. He was laying down next to his son, who was breathing quite more easily than before. It had been a dreadful day, coughing fit after coughing fit, something horrible for Legolas, but almost even worse for Thranduil. He could not stand the sight of his son gasping for air after each breathing exercise. He had been tempted more than once to send Kaela and his foul healer's tricks away and leave him and his son be.

At last Kaela had deemed Legolas free of liquid in his lungs, allowing both Prince and King a small respite. Legolas had soon been called to the path of dreams, and it looked like the King had followed short after.

Thranduil saw Kaela sleeping on the couch and was touched by the healer's soft heart. His presence there was not needed anymore, but he must have known that Thranduil would feel much, _much_ , better if he was nearby.

" _Ada_?"

Thranduil turned and found two bright eyes looking at him from beneath the sheets. The King snuggled under them, careful not to make any noise and wake the healer. He covered both their heads with the blankets, and they laid down very close to each other. Thranduil could feel Legolas breaths on his skin.

"Why aren't you sleeping, my little leaf?" He felt Legolas cheeks and forehead. "You are still burning."

" _Ada_ , are you mad at me?"

Thranduil sighed. Of course he was not mad at him. How could he be mad with those puppy eyes staring at him? But, at the very least, he had to pretend he was.

"Yes, Legolas. What you did was foolish and rash." Thranduil had to fight the urge to reassure his son when the little elfling's eyes filled with tears.

"I am sorry, _ada_. I promise I will be good when I grow up."

Thranduil could not help a snicker. ' _When he grows up_ …' he thought. Because being good _now_ was asking too much.

" _Ada_ … please, forgive me?"

' _No one with half a heart would be able to resist this voice._ ' Thranduil consoled himself as he pulled his son closer to him.

"I will forgive you if…"

"If what?" Legolas looked at him, ready to do whatever his father asked for.

"If you give me a bone-crushing hug and our secret goodnight kiss."

Legolas nodded. "I can do that." He put his arms around his father's body and squeezed him as much as he could.

"Oh Valar, my son has the strength of a troll!" Thranduil laughed. Then Legolas let go and pushed himself upwards so he was face to face with the King. He wrinkled his nose and rubbed it against his father's, kissing him on the cheek afterwards. Thranduil laughed, as he hugged his son. "All is forgiven now, _ion-nin_."

"Good," Legolas yawned, and made himself comfortable in Thranduil's embrace. " _Ada?_ " He looked at his father. "I love you."

"I love you too, Legolas."

.

.

.

.

.

"Don't tell _nana_?"

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed it! I will try to keep following chapters** **shorter. Reviews are very much appreciated!**


	6. A Legal Problem

**Thank you so much for all the reviews! It is really helpful to know people like this so far! Thank you to Ruby Silverstar for editing this!**

 **Summary:** Thranduil is trapped in the most boring meeting. That's it, boring until someone decides to make his appearance.

 **Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil.

* * *

 **A Legal Problem**

The door took a few more seconds to close than it should have.

Thranduil looked at it, frowning. That door had closed perfectly well that morning. There was no reason whatsoever for it to have rusted in a matter of hours. 'I'll have to ask someone to oil it,' Thranduil thought. _'_ We should not have rusted doors. What would my father say if he thought I am neglecting his palace? Oh, he would not be happy - why am I thinking of doors?'

A voice invaded the tranquillity of his mind. "And according to our agreement, paragraph two, whenever the purchaser, that is you, my King, should claim that the quality of our fabrics has lessened-"

'Oh, yes. That's why.'

Thranduil could not recall a single day on his life when he had been this bored. Not even one. It made him understand his father's apprehension for men. He had known this negotiation was going to be hard, he was no fool. But, not even in his worst nightmare could he have imagined _this_. The trader had been talking for hours without end. He had astonishing talking skills, really, and Thranduil may have admired his eloquence had he not been the one suffering it. His gaze flickered to the window for a second. The meeting had started shortly after sunrise, with a little break for lunch. Now, the sun was hiding behind the distant mountains. And they had made no progress at all.

'Gil-galad's last council at Dagorlad was funnier than this.'

"If you read paragraph forty, your majesty, you will find that, in the case of an increase of price in dye,-"

'At least his Lord looks bored too.'

Thranduil glanced at the old Lord, stifling a smile when he found him nodding off, eyes closed. He was rather confident their advisors could very well manage this legal challenge without them present, but Thranduil had been told that he ought to be there so as not to offend the men's liege. He was starting to think the Lord had been told the exact same thing. If only he could get up and call all of them out of their error…

'I am going to take such a long bath after this. I deserve it. And then I will have the most delicious dinner and –'

Thranduil was startled out of his thoughts as he felt a kick on his shin. It took all his facial control, something he had acquired after many years of long meetings, not to grimace and yelp in surprise. Something had _kicked_ him on the shin. He looked around, wondering if it may have been any of his advisors. They had stoic faces, seeming very interested in whatever the man was saying now.

"Wha-" Thranduil could not help himself as something pulled from his tunic. They all turned towards him with puzzled expressions.

"Do you have any questions, my King?" the trader asked, a frown starting to form on his face.

"No, no, excuse me. Go on."

There was something under the table. Thranduil had felt it move. There was _something under the table_. Maybe an animal had entered the room through one of the windows? Thranduil cleared his throat, giving a nervous smile when the Elven Lords turned with questioning faces. He stirred on his seat.

'Think quickly, Thranduil, and do something.' His eyes flickered to the writing feather just by his hand. Slowly, and making sure no one was looking at him, he pushed it off the table.

His councillors rapidly moved to retrieve it from the floor, but Thranduil dismissed them with a small wave. He bent down, grabbed the feather, and looked under the table.

Thranduil found himself face to face with his son. He stared at him, mouth dropping. Legolas returned the look, blinking. And then, he merrily crawled away from the King's reach.

"No-," he muttered, trying to grab the baby and knocking his head on the table in the process.

"Oh Valar, my King, are you quite alright?" He heard someone above say. He immediately sat straight, a hand rubbing the back of his head, and laughed.

"Yes, sorry. Please go on."

The others looked unconvinced, but neither had the nerve to press further on Greenwood's King. Thranduil clenched his teeth, tapping nervously on the floor. What was he supposed to do now? For the hundredth time that week, he wished he and Enery had looked for a nanny.

'But no,' he thought back at the conversation with his wife, '"Legolas should be raised by his parents and not someone he does not know. We will have to make an effort and balance our duties with his rising". Well, balancing our duties did _not_ include having him on meetings, Enery.'

He felt his heart pounding. It was only a matter of time before Legolas kicked someone else. An Elven Lord he could manage, but if he kicked a man, or even their Lord…Valar only knew. They were a proud race, how would they react at a baby -and none other than the King's son- kicking them?! All those hours for nothing… Thranduil snickered. They were on the brink of loosing a valuable link between elven and men realms, and he found he could only think of the lost hours.

It was a matter of time now. Of time and of whoever Legolas chose as his next victim. Thranduil bit his lower lip nervously. Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind. If he called for a rest right then, he would be able to get his son without anyone noticing he had entered the room.

'How did he even _got_ in the room in the first place?' Thranduil frowned. 'Oh. The door. That's why it didn't close. Well, at least our doors work fine.'

Thranduil got a deep breath and cleared his voice, calling for everyone's attention. "I think-"

He couldn't get to say more. The Lord startled awake and yelped in surprise as a golden head suddenly appeared climbing up his robes. The man looked at the baby in surprise before recovering, picking him up and placing him in his lap. Man and elfling looked at each other in confusion. Then Legolas got at the long necklaces the Lord was wearing and chewed on them.

Thranduil groaned. "I think that's my son." He covered his face with his hands, sighing in defeat. So that was it. That was the end of the relationship they had worked so hard to maintain. Years of negotiation, hours of discussions, for this. He felt the Elven Lords around him shift nervously. Thranduil shook his head, as he got up.

"I am extremely sorry, my Lord. This is Legolas, my son. I don't know how he managed to escape his mother and get in the room. I am profoundly and deeply sorry for the disturbance," Thranduil said, flushing as he approached the man to retrieve Legolas.

But the Lord stopped him with a wave of his hand, without even looking at the King. Thranduil raised his eyebrows in surprise. The Lord was looking at Legolas, _smiling._ He gently pulled the necklaces out of Legolas' mouth and clinked them together playfully. Legolas giggled and caught the jewellery himself, examining it in wonder. Then, he turned towards Thranduil, showing him his new discovery with a look of amazement. Thranduil managed a small, trembling smile, but the Lord laughed heartily.

"He must be even younger than me!"

"He is." Thranduil nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"I had never met an elf younger than me. You have a delightful son, my King." The Lord smiled at him for a second, and then returned his full attention to Legolas.

No one moved or said anything. Thranduil stood there, feeling like a fool. Not many times had he found himself at such a word's loss as he was now, and he did not like it one bit. The Lord seemed to notice the silence that had fallen upon them and frowned.

"Go on. We can continue the meeting."

Thranduil approached him once again. "Hand him to me, my Lord, I will-"

"No need for that. He is happy where he is. I think he likes my necklaces. Leave him be, my King. He does not bother me"

Thranduil nodded, still unsure of what to do, and returned to his seat. There, he watched his son and the Lord play with the jewels, unable the shake himself off the shock. Legolas' giggles filled the air, bringing smiles to all faces in the room and relieving some of the tension.

The meeting went on for quite some time yet, until the Lord raised a hand and the trader stopped talking. Thranduil looked at him, and found his son peacefully sleeping in his arms.

"I think we have tired the elfling," he whispered, as if afraid of waking Legolas. Thranduil chuckled. As if. His son had the deepest sleep he had ever seen. An oliphant could walk into the room right that instant, and he would not even stir. "Let's call for an end, shall we?"

"But my Lord-" the trader protested.

"I trust on your great skills to draft a new agreement that pleases both elves and men," the Lord appeased him, letting him know with a stern look that there was no room for discussion. "If that is alright with King Thranduil, of course."

"Oh, yes," Thranduil said, maybe a bit too excitedly. His advisors threw him sharpen looks, and he cleared his throat. "I think that is a good idea, my Lord. I am confident my people and yours will be most able to find a middle point for our interests."

The trader nodded, and the Lord rose, cradling Legolas carefully in his arms. Thranduil stood, not sure of what was next.

"Your son is absolutely delightful, my King. I would be most pleased if you and your wife came to Lake Town this summer with him, for I myself have a grandson who is around his age and I think they would both enjoy from each other's company."

"We would be most delighted, my Lord," Thranduil said, not finding words for anything more.

The Lord then took a necklace off and put it around's Legolas neck, smiling fondly. "He seemed to like this one the most. Here," he passed Legolas to Thranduil, "I think this belongs to you."

Thranduil took the small bundle in his arms, and Legolas immediately put his arms around his neck, resting his head on his shoulders and muttering a soft, " _Ada._ "

The Lord smiled at him again, and then turned. "Well, I think this is it. Should we go?"

Some elves rushed to his side and offered to guide all men to their rooms. Soon after, Thranduil was left alone with Legolas drooling all over his shoulder.

"Well then," he muttered. "That was unexpected."

xXx

 _Some years later…_

"Is he ready?"

"Yes. They are bringing him as we speak."

"What tunic is he wearing?"

"The blue one."

"Good choice. It highlights his eyes. Alright then, is everything ready?"

"Everything is going according to plan."

"Good. I'm going in then. Good luck to everyone." Thranduil opened the door to his Meeting Hall, where he was awaited by several men ready to sack his arcs because of some new pathetic excuse. The King smiled to himself.

Outside, he heard Legolas' giggles. Those men did not know what was coming to them.

"Welcome, my friends, to the realm of Greenwood. Now, what can I do for you?"

* * *

 **Legolas, the negotiation machine. And a very effective one, I might add. Did you like this? If so, go to the little box below and let me know! Thanks so much for reading!**


	7. An 'Ada' Problem

**This is an extremely short chapter, but as I won't be able to post on Monday I thought I would compensate by publishing this.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter! It means the world to me.**

 **Translations:**

 _Meleth:_ dear one, loved one

* * *

 **An 'Ada' Problem**

"Legolas. Hey, Legolas, look here. Yes, here. Say: A-"

"A-"

"Good! Now say: -da."

"-da."

"Yes! Very good, my little leaf! Let's go again: A-"

"A-"

"-da."

"-da"

"Now Legolas. Here comes the difficult part. Say: _Ada_."

" _Ada._ "

Thranduil gasped. That was the first time his son had called him _ada_. Normally, he would grunt in a certain way and Thranduil would know it was him his son wanted. He scooped Legolas in his arms and run towards the small gathering of elves. "Enery! Look, he said it!"

All eyes turned to Legolas and Thranduil.

"Come on, Legolas. Say: A-" he guided the Prince again.

"A-"

"Now -da."

"-da."

"That's great. Now: _Ada_."

" _Nana._ "

Thranduil stared in shock, ignoring the giggling elves around them. "No, no, no. Legolas say: _Ada._ "

" _Nana._ "

"Legolas!"

"Leave him be, Thranduil. It is clear he likes me better," his wife teased. The other elves were now openly laughing.

"But he just said it!"

"Sure he did, _meleth_."

"Enery." Thranduil looked at her. "I swear you he just said it. Please, Legolas. Say: _Ada_." He turned his pleading eyes to his son.

" _Nana!"_

Thranduil's head and shoulders dropped in defeat. Everyone was laughing at him, and Legolas was giggling at the merriment of the other elves. With a longing sigh, he looked at his son.

"You little traitor," he said, but the smile on his face betrayed the seriousness of his voice. Legolas looked at him, putting his arms around Thranduil's neck and yawning. "Alright, alright. I get it. Bedtime."

Thranduil turned and headed to the palace. Legolas rested his head on his shoulder, looking at the King. Suddenly, he got closer to Thranduil's ear as he whispered, " _Ada."_

Thranduil groaned.

* * *

 **Reviewers get cookies! Even if it's only a word!**


	8. An Ink Problem

**Thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed! Reviews are like hot chocolate on a winter day. With marshmallows.**

 **I've read this a thousand times, but I am not completely sure if it actually makes sense. Feel free to tell me if it doesn't or to point out any mistakes!**

 **Summary:** Greenwood's palace is safe and free from monsters… or is it?

 **Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil

* * *

 **An Ink Problem**

Legolas gasped, as he ducked just in time to avoid a swipe coming in his direction. Looking around, he desperately looked for a hiding place. He needed to find somewhere safe until he was found and rescued from the creature that had been after him for what felt like hours now.

Silly him, he had thought he was perfectly safe inside the palace. It had always been that way, so it wasn't really his fault he had been caught off guard. And, besides, when warriors came home from the border, they always said the palace and its surroundings where free from danger. Well, clearly, they were mistaken.

Legolas heard a roar coming from somewhere very close behind him. He did not turn, for he had little time to spare, but he could almost feel his pursuer's breath on his neck. He would never confess this to anyone, but he was scared. He had never been so scared in his life. Not even when he had been left alone with _ada_ and _nana_ after that tiny, minor incident with the warg. Legolas could still hear their yells resonating in his ears. Regardless, that had been a walk through the garden compared to this.

Legolas felt his legs on fire as he ran through the palace's corridors. They were usually crowded with elves going from one place to another, but everyone was outside that night, celebrating the Spring Solstice. Quite a surprise they would have when they returned to find their prince murdered in his own palace.

He dared to slightly turn his head and check on his chaser, only to regret it immediately, for it roared even louder and run even harder. Legolas could not keep this up for much longer. His short legs could not carry him with the required speed to lose such an opponent. He thought back at the laughs of his father and his chief commanders when he had asked them to let him start warrior training. They had dismissed him as if he had said the biggest foolishness in the world.

'You are too young,' they had said. 'Even the smallest bows are bigger than you.'

Yes, well, wouldn't they want him to be able to fight now? He was going to get killed without being able to even move a finger to prevent it.

Legolas reached his father's Throne Room, and briefly doubted whether to enter or keep running down the corridors. He had momentarily lost the creature, and he might be able to hide in the room. But it was absolutely forbidden for him to go in there alone. Out of limits. Terrible punishments awaited for him if he did. His father would condemn him to cleaning duties for the rest of his life. 'Well, I'm dead anyway,' he thought, as he stood on his tiptoes and opened the door with some difficulty, dismayed at the precious time he was losing.

He slammed it close right behind him, praying that the creature would think he had kept running. He looked around in awe. That hall was the biggest in the palace, with ceilings so high Legolas had to bend his neck backwards to see the top. Wonderfully woven tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes of the History of Middle-Earth. Huge windows let streams of golden light illuminate the room. On the far end, there was a dome that gave shelter to his father's throne.

He approached it, his light steps echoing through the pillars, drinking from the vision before him. Polished branches had been interwoven to form a delicate pattern on the back of the throne, and they had been ended to look like two enormous deer horns. The seat was lined with red velvet, though it didn't really look vey comfortable. Maybe that's why his father was always in a bad mood whenever he had to spend the afternoon locked in this room and he called the men who had kept him there 'morons'. Not that he knew Legolas had heard that word, mind you. He would pull his ears if he heard that coming from Legolas' mouth.

Suddenly, he heard a soft click as the knob turned and the door was cracked open. Legolas turned, his heart racing. Silly him again! He had let himself be bewitched by the magic of the room and had been caught off guard for the second time that day! No wonder his father did not let him become a warrior…

He frantically looked around. There had to be somewhere he could hide. For the first time in his life, he was actually grateful of being this small, even if Daeron teased him by calling him a baby, for it allowed him to get in between the throne and the wall. He squirmed and twisted until no part of him was visible, and he willed his heart to slow down and controlled his breathing. He squeezed his eyes and made himself very, very small as he heard heavy steps cross the room. He tried not to flinch as the snorts came closer. Curling into a little ball, he started to say his goodbyes. That was it for the Greenwood's Prince. This was the end of the race. And he had never even gotten to learn how to hold a bow. How pathetic.

Any moment now.

Legolas held his breath, hearing loud pants coming from somewhere just before the throne. He nibbled his bottom lip, something his _nana_ had scolded him for countless times before. It didn't matter anymore. His chaser walked back and forth before the throne, as if trying to smell him. Legolas wondered if it could smell fear.

Much to Legolas' great relief, however, it did not seem to notice him, as it walked away and left the room. He could not believe it. He had bravely outwitted it! He had survived on his own! Wait until he told Daeron, he would never dare to call him a baby again. How could anyone, after having courageously faced such a terrible force.

Legolas merrily crawled away from the tight space. In his mind, he imagined himself fighting against hordes of black monsters, protecting the defenceless and saving Greenwood. He slashed past imaginary orcs with imaginary swords, firing arrows at the dark creature treacherously positioned on the windows ledges trying to catch him by surprise. Giggling, he opened the door and walked down the corridor, heading for the green so he could tell everyone about his deed. Surely, they would be amazed at his great hiding skills. Lord Silma may even write a song about him! He would be praised, and his father would allow him to become a warrior now. The twins in Imladris would-

He suddenly found himself on the floor, having crashed against something. His lip trembled as he raised his head, terrified of what he would find. Two wide, full of anger eyes were looking down on him.

The Prince scrambled back, as the pursuer stepped forward. His back found a wall, and he knew there was no getting out of this one. Not even Daeron with his big sword could save him now. His chaser came nearer. Legolas whimpered, as he stood. Unexpectedly, he felt glass behind him. A window! He could get out of there through the window! Ivy surrounded the palace, and he had climbed up and down it numerous times.

He turned and opened it, grabbing the ivy and getting out just in time. He felt the creature's long fingers brush past his arms. He skilfully lowered himself towards the ground, saying _hi_ to the little birds who nestled inside the plant, that cheeped in return. No matter his fear, his _nana_ said politeness always came first.

Legolas had always found great pleasure in climbing things. Ivy, trees, tapestries, his _ada_ , you name it. He had always been quite good, something he took great pride on and never forgot to remind everyone about. But even the greatest climbers could not avoid the occasional fall. And, surely, not when a loud 'LEGOLAS!' startled them and made them misstep.

Legolas gasped as he free-fell towards the ground, preparing himself for the blow against the hard floor. But it didn't come. It seemed as if that was his lucky day, for someone had decided to place the giant cake that the cookers had prepared for the Spring Solstice just under the window Legolas had come out through, and he soon found himself swimming in strawberry and cream.

He managed to get his head out of it, and looked at the frozen, aghast elves around him. The music had stopped, and the dancers were no longer moving in harmony across the green. The commensals dropped their cutlery, and the King looked redder than Legolas had ever seen him. It made him wonder if his father was ill.

A loud roar broke the silence. Legolas turned, gasping. He saw the creature run down the stairs as he scrambled his way out of the cake, pieces of it glued to his clothes and hair. He run towards his father, passing through shocked elves who did not move a finger to help him. Just wait until he was king. He would make it mandatory to help any elfling in distress.

He reached and climbed his father, despite the latter's attempts to keep him on the ground.

"Legolas, what are you doing?" the King muttered, as he tried to grasp his son, who just dodged him and climbed to his shoulders, encircling his arms around his head.

" _Ada_ , save me!"

"From what?!"

"From that!"

Legolas pointed at his pursuer, who was now stomping through the clear, everyone keeping away from him. 'Cowards,' Legolas thought. He felt his father tense up and closed his eyes. An uncomfortable silence befell the green.

"Laithor," he heard the King gulp, "what can I do for you?"

"That… son of yours," Laithor seemed to struggle with the word, "spilled ink on one of my books in the library."

"It was only a little bit!" Legolas dared to say, as he looked at the elf that had been chasing him. " _Ada_ , he turned into a monster and tried to eat me," he whispered into his father's ear, sinking down after the dreadful glare the librarian threw him.

Thranduil took his son from his shoulders and cuddled him in his arms, feeling his fear. "Surely nothing beyond remedy, is it?"

"That book costs a small fortune."

"Come on, Laithor. I'm sure you will be able to clean it off."

The librarian thought about it for a second, but finding himself the centre of attention, he ceded and nodded, throwing a murderous look towards Legolas. The Prince buried his face on his father's tunic, and he did not attend to anyone until he heard Laithor's steps fade away and his father promised him he was not there anymore.

"Legolas, I put you to bed hours ago. What on Arda were you doing in the library?" Thranduil, asked, sitting down and doing his best at picking the pieces of cake off his son's hair.

"I just wanted to look at the pictures, I didn't know the ink would fall!" Legolas sobbed, still unable of shake himself off the fear.

Thranduil sighed sharing a glance with his wife, who was looking extremely amused. "And why did you climb down the ivy when I have told you more times than I care to count not to?"

Legolas looked up at him, tears brightening his eyes. "I…" he sobbed, "I thought he was going to eat me." He momentarily thought back at the Throne Room, where he had thought himself the bravest warrior in history. All his bravado was gone now, however, and he felt his face damp with tears.

Thranduil seemed to feel his son's discomfort, and he waved the musicians to resume their playing, encouraging everyone to keep doing whatever they were doing before the interruption. He grabbed a serviette and cleaned his son's face from tears and cake traces.

"See?" he told Daeron, who had approached to check on the little Prince. "This is what happens when you tell him scary stories before bed. He ends up thinking my librarian is a monster."

"But he is the one who asks for the stories!" Daeron replied, crouching besides them and playfully tickling Legolas' tummy. "Laithor is not a monster, Legolas. He just looks like one when someone damages his dear books and the need for revenge overcomes him. But he is not a monster, and last time I checked, he does not eat elflings either. Though you are not the first one think so, if I remember correctly. Just ask your father about the time he went into the library and- "

"And I think that is quite enough, Daeron, thank you very much." Thranduil did his best but could not hide the flush on his face as he waved his friend silent. "Don't you have better things to do? Go dance with someone, or get yourself drunk, I don't care."

" _Ada_ , what does he mean?" Legolas looked up at his father, curious.

"Nothing, my little leaf."

The elfling looked at Daeron, who was smirking at them as he walked away. The warrior winked at him as he mouthed the words 'I will tell you later'. Legolas nodded, smiling as he sank further on the King's arms, grasping his hand. Thranduil kissed the top of the golden head.

"No one is going to harm you here, _ion-nin_. You are safe."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Enery answered, sitting down besides them. Legolas exchanged glances between his parents, making sure of their confident expressions before nodding.

"Alright," he said. His face suddenly lightened up as an idea crossed his mind. " _Ada!_ "

"What?"

"Now that I am here… can I dance on your feet for a little while?"

Thranduil sighed. "Don't you want to get cleaned first?"

"Huh, huh," Legolas shook his head.

Enery looked at Thranduil, a smile lightening up her beautiful features, and nodded towards the dancing elves encouragingly.

"Two against one. Not fair!" Thranduil exclaimed, as he stood up with a cheering Legolas on his arms.

Legolas ended up dancing on almost every elf's feet that night. Even Laithor came out of his library and offered a hand to the elfling in apologize. Legolas shily took it, not entirely convinced by his father and Daeron's reassurances yet. The music changed from a lively tune to a slow dance as the Moon passed and the Sun painted red the mountains, slowly but steadily appearing in the distance.

Few elves managed to stay through the night, but the ones who did would always remember their King and Queen dancing gracefully with a long ago asleep prince nestled in his mother's arms.

No Spring Solstice ever surpassed this one.

* * *

 **This has not been a good week for me. Show this poor writer your love by leaving a little review if you liked the story! As always, thanks for reading!**


	9. A Missing Problem

**Thank you so much for the comments and words of encouragement! Guest reviewers, you are very much appreciated!**

 **This is not exactly a mishap (unless you consider staying up late as one), but today is a very special day for me and I wanted to write something about it. Go to the comment at the end of the fic if you want to find out what inspired this little chapter!**

 **Thanks to awilliamsbbc.98 and Ruby Silvestar for the beta read!**

 **Summary:** we all have stayed awake for someone, battling against sleep while we waited for them to come home. Little Legolas is no exception.

 **Characters:** Thranduil, Enery, Legolas, Daeron.

* * *

 **A Missing Problem**

Daeron glanced down, lowering his book, at the sudden increase of weigh against his arm. He watched Legolas' head fall forwards, and suddenly straighten up again as two sleep glazed eyes looked at him.

"Let's go to bed, shall we?" Daeron asked him, as he shared an amused glance with Aradan, the Weapons Master.

Legolas just shook his head, snuggling against Daeron's arm and grabbing his hand, while he pressed a stuffed animal against his chest.

"It is very late, Legolas, and they won't arrive until a few more hours. You can see them in the morning." Aradan said from the seat Thranduil usually occupied in the King's study.

The elfling shook his head again, and rubbed his eyes, yawning. The other two elves shrugged. They knew better than to contradict the child when he had put his whole heart on something.

Soon enough, however, Daeron felt Legolas go limp against him again. He put the book down and carefully grasped the elfling's tiny arms. Legolas immediately woke up, squirming in protest against Daeron's grip.

"Shh," the warrior hushed, "I'm not going to put you to bed." Daeron laid Legolas down so he was using his leg as pillow. "Toss me the blanket, will you?" he asked Aradan.

The Weapons Master reached for the red blanket that was carefully folded on a shelf. They had long ago learned to keep it in Thranduil's study, as Legolas was a regular visitor to his father's study when he couldn't sleep, and it was not rare to find him dozing on the couch under his father's watch.

Daeron caringly tucked the blanket around Legolas, brushing away the golden strands of hair on the elfling's face. "I will wake you up when they arrive."

Legolas nodded, as he put his thumb in his mouth and finally gave in to sleep.

"He managed to stay awake longer than I expected." Aradan commented, classifying the papers on stacks to be signed by Thranduil.

"He is a stubborn little one." Daeron replied, looking fondly at the peacefully sleeping child.

"Wonder who he got that from." Aradan chuckled, standing to throw another log on the dying fire. He sat back down in an armchair beside Daeron. "He is going to give us many headaches when he grows."

"I already fear for our sanity."

Aradan chuckled again as he tiredly rested his head against the back of the armchair. "How long do you think until they arrive?"

"I don't know. Thranduil said they would try to make it before sunrise, in order to be here for tomorrow's council."

"What, Thranduil actually making haste to attend council? Nay, they will most likely stop for the night."

"They haven't seen little Greenleaf for two weeks. I wouldn't put it past through Enery and Thranduil to appear right now."

"True, true. For a moment there I thought they would take him with them."

"I thought it too, but they saw sense in the end. He is far too young for such a journey." Daeron stroked Legolas' soft cheek. "He has missed them deeply."

"He has. He is very attached to them."

"Though nothing compared to how they are to him."

"Oh, no. It is nigh impossible to surpass them."

Daeron smiled. "Their little act of rebellion," he muttered.

"What was that?" Aradan leaned forward, resting his head on his hand.

"Just something Thranduil once said. You are very well aware that these are no exactly the best times to have children," he looked knowingly at Aradan. They were both warriors, and they had both been out there. They knew what lurked in the shadows, and they knew it was there to stay. "After he and Enery made the announcement, I asked him why now. He said that it was their own little rebellion against the shadows."

Aradan nodded, shifting his eyes to the small bundle besides Daeron. "His happiness and the happiness he brings to others will be everyone's little rebellion."

"I will make sure of it," Daeron said.

XxX

Shortly before sunrise, a knock interrupted Daeron's and Aradan's conversation. A servant carefully opened the door and announced the arrival of the King and Queen to the palace courtyard. They nodded at him, and he closed the door again.

"Legolas," Daeron whispered, shaking him lightly. " _Ada_ and _Nana_ have arrived."

Legolas frowned, sinking further into the couch.

"The deepest sleeper Ilúvatar created," Daeron smiled, all too used to Legolas' sleeping habits. He scooped the elfling up in his arms as he stood. Aradan grasped the blanket and wrapped it over Legolas' body, who gave a loud sigh and rested his head against Daeron's chest, still sucking his thumb.

The strategically placed candles threw pools of dim light, and showed them the way to the courtyard entrance. The palace was silent except for the occasional bustle that could be heard through the thick doors. Most were from elves whose work required them to get up early, but Daeron and Aradan could clearly hear hushed laughs and cups clinking together too. They smiled, recalling the times in which they have been the ones on those bedrooms.

They heard a door click shut, as the sound of shushed voices reached their ears. At the end of the corridor, Daeron saw the King thank the warriors that had escorted them, as he handed his gloves to his aide besides him. The Queen, as if having sensed them, turned towards Daeron and Aradan. Her tired expression changed into one of extreme happiness as she saw the unmistakable bundle in Daeron's arms.

"Oh, my little leaf," she whispered, walking towards them and reaching for her son. She kissed his forehead with a longing expression. "How I have missed you."

Legolas opened his eyes, not fully awakening, and he managed the tiniest smile. " _Nana_ ," he sighed, grasping her tunic as he closed his eyes again.

"He insisted on staying up until you arrived," Daeron explained as Thranduil joined them.

"Did you? That's very considerate of you, _ion-nin_." The King smiled down to Legolas, taking his little hand and kissing it.

"Do you want to hug _Ada_ too?" Enery asked, turning slightly towards Thranduil. Legolas nodded, not bothering to open his eyes. "Here you go." She handed him to Thranduil.

"Hello, Legolas," he said, as he cradled the elfling.

" _Ada,_ " the child said, voice no louder than a whisper.

"Let's go to bed, alright? Do you want to sleep on _Ada_ and _Nana_ 's bed tonight?"

Opening his eyes a crack, Legolas nodded.

Thranduil smiled and looked at Daeron and Aradan. "Everything in order?" Everyone knew he was not referring to the realm.

"He has a scratch on his hand from trying to feed a pastry to a squirrel yesterday. Other than that, everything in order."

"And Greenwood?"

"Everything is just as when you left."

Thranduil nodded. "Thank you for staying up with him."

"Do not mention it," Daeron waved him off, as he and Aradan walked away towards their own chambers. "Good night."

"Good night," the King and Queen said.

A small grunt made Daeron and Aradan turn. Legolas sleepily smiled at them over his _Ada_ 's shoulder, as he blew a kiss into the air with his little hand.

XxX

"Is he asleep?"

"Like a log."

Thranduil smiled at his wife, enjoying the soft lullaby she was singing as she stroked Legolas' hair.

"What?", she asked, feeling his eyes staring at her.

"I just can't believe you are with me."

"I can't believe it sometimes either."

He laughed, folding his tunic and climbing to the bed, laying down besides Legolas. He turned on his side so he was facing his son. He stroked the flushed cheeks, running his finger over every curve of his face, as if trying to memorize it. "He takes after you."

"Thank the Valar," Enery teased, but she shook her head immediately after. "Nay, he doesn't. He has my ways, but he looks like you." She put her hand over Legolas' chest, feeling the movement as he breathed. Her gaze flickered for a moment to Thranduil, and frowned at his sudden serious expression. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," he quickly dismissed her.

"No, what?"

"I'm just… I am sorry, Enery."

"What?" Pushing herself up with her elbow, she rested her head on her hand so she was looking directly into Thranduil's eyes. "What are you sorry about?"

"About all this."

"Thranduil, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"About… this!" he pointed at Legolas, and then at Enery and himself.

"About our family?!" she gasped, as she pointed at him with a warning finger. "Choose your next words carefully because I'm _very_ close at throwing a shoe to your head, Thranduil Oropherion."

"No!" he hastily said, shaking his head. "No, not about our family. The Valar know you two are the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes. I am sorry about our duties keeping us from him. About… about me being King, and you becoming Queen, and poor Legolas having to stay up at night so he can see his parents and-"

"Thranduil, for Valar's sake, it's not as if we had _poor_ -really, _melleth?_ poor?-" She chuckled and rolled her eyes, "Legolas awake every single night hoping to catch a glimpse of his parents! And apologizing for being King… really Thranduil, I thought that, after centuries of being married, I had seen and heard every foolishness you are capable of. Glad to see I was wrong. Sorry about being King, indeed. As if you had something to do with it!"

"But I dragged you into this!"

"You talk as if you had a sword to my throat when we married! Thranduil, see sense! You are not to blame for anything!"

"But-"

Enery silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Stop talking. Stop talking right this instant. I am going to blame sleep deprivation for this conversation, but I don't want to hear another word."

Thranduil gave her a resigned half smile. "Do you think he will feel the same as you?" he asked, grasping Enery's hand and caressing it.

"Now, that's a good one," Enery said, smiling at her husband. "Legolas absolutely adores you, Thranduil. There is nothing in this world that you could do wrong in his eyes; you should see how he tries to mimic everything you do."

"Does he?" Thranduil asked with a small laugh.

"Oh, yes. It's almost as if he is already practicing to be King. You should watch out, he may be planning to dethrone you."

"I'm sure he would be a great King."

"As are you, my love. As are you." Enery leaned over and kissed him. "It's all worth it, _melleth_." She said, looking intently into his eyes. "The duties, the pain, the missing. It's all worth it."

Thranduil sighed, curling one of his son's golden locks on his finger. Legolas turned towards his father, grasping his hand and chewing on it. "I think he is -ouch!, yes, he is definitely teething."

Enery laughed, placing a hand on Thranduil's face. "I am blessed by the Valar every day, Thranduil. Do not feel the need to apologize again."

"Then I will feel that I am blessed as well. Even when I am having my hand eaten by my own son."

"Especially then."

"Especially then." Thranduil chuckled. After a moment's pause, he added, "are you happy, then? Are you happy with a foolish King as a husband, and a flesh eating elfling as your son?"

Enery stared at him with her piercing brown eyes, that still managed to cut Thranduil's breath every time she laid them upon him. "I greet happiness face to face every day that I look at you both."

The King smiled, pulling both Legolas and Enery closer to him. "You are wise, _melleth_. You should rule Greenwood, and not I."

"Oh, darling," she kissed his cheek. "Trust me, I already do."

* * *

 **Fourteen years ago, this very night, my brother and I were a seven years old and a five years old trying our best not to fall asleep on the couch at 4 A.M. We were waiting for our parents, who were coming back from China with a beautiful baby girl, our adopted sister (and the best sister anyone could ask for).**

 **I hope you liked it even if it does not involve little Legolas doing crazy stuff. If you did, let me know! Thanks for reading!**


	10. A Storm Problem

**Better late than never! This didn't turn out as I wanted it to, but I hope you won't feel disapointed!. Thanks a lot for the reviews for last chapter! Thanks to awilliamsbbc.98 for editing this!**

 **Summary:** Little Legolas is afraid of storms. If only he could remember the way to his parent's bed…

 **Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil, Enery.

* * *

 **A Storm Problem**

Legolas startled awake as a ray of white light flashed across the room, followed by a clap of thunder that sounded like a hundred horses galloping their way into the elfling's room.

He hid under the blankets, flinching and pressing his hands to his ears. He had never been fond of storms, but this was something else. This seemed as if the skies were tearing themselves apart, unmindful of little elflings shivering in fear on their beds. And, on top of that, on alien beds. Legolas loved coming to Imladris, for the Noldor elves spoiled him even more than his parents, but right that moment, he had never missed the familiarity of his bedroom back at Greenwood or the cosiness of his own bed so deeply.

Legolas clenched his eyes shut as another thunder clap left his ears ringing. Oh, how he wished his parents, or Daeron, or someone, anyone, would come to retrieve him. He did not want to be alone when the sky fell on them! Willing his heart to beat slower, he tried to remember the way to his parents' room. They usually occupied the adjacent chamber, but the furniture on it needed changing, and the King and Queen of Greenwood had been relocated farther away.

"It was at the end of the corridor, and then… then right!" Legolas opened his eyes wide as a smile spread through his face, a rush of comfort warming his heart. If he could reach his parents everything would be alright.

Legolas pushed the blankets away, jumping down from the bed and shivering at the cold tiles under his bare feet. He had almost reached the door when he gasped, remembering something he had left behind. He ran back to the bed and reached for his stuffed dog.

"Oh, Puppy, I'm sorry I almost forgot you!" He grabbed the toy and pressed it to his chest, as he resumed his march towards safety.

The corridor was pitch black, the clouds outside not allowing even the slightest ray of moon through the curtains. Legolas shuddered, his heart sinking a little at the thought of crossing the whole corridor on his own. He squeezed the stuffed dog, muttering words of comfort.

"It's alright, Puppy, we will find _Nana_ and _Ada_ and it will be alright."

He took small steps, eyes wide as he tried to discern something. Around him though the darkness seemed to gain a corporeal form and Legolas felt as if he had to push his way through it.

Finally, and after taking much more time than it should, the Prince managed to reach the door to his parents' room.

More darkness welcomed him inside, making it impossible to distinguish anything. He extended his arm before him, groping for the bed but bumping instead with another door. Puzzled, Legolas wondered if maybe his parents' new bedroom had a sitting room preceding it. As it could be the only explanation, Legolas opened the second door, stumbling when he hit a small step. He climbed it, fervently hoping his search for safety was coming at last to an end.

The air inside was heavy, and the elfling frowned at the feeling of being in a small space. He closed the door behind him and took a dubious step. He yelped in surprise when something touched his shoulders. He fell back, suddenly surrounded by odd furry things that seemed to be hanging from the ceiling. Legolas turned around, holding Puppy closer, and trying to find the door again. He had little success, however, and he was left fighting against those odd things that threatened to drown him in their folds.

XxX

Enery startled awake. She frowned, her head snapping upwards as she heard a thump inside the wardrobe.

"Thranduil." She patted his husband's back. "Thranduil, wake up."

The King muttered something intelligible, sinking deeper into the blankets.

"Thranduil, wake up!"

"What? What's wrong?" Thranduil turned in haste, blinking away the remainders of sleep. "What is it?"

"There is something in the wardrobe," Enery whispered, as she sat on the bed and stared at the closet.

"In the wardrobe? Like… inside the wardrobe?" Thranduil still sounded half asleep.

"Yes, Thranduil, like _inside_ the wardrobe. I heard it."

"Enery, it must have been a dream, there can't be anything inside the-"

Another thump cut Thranduil's words short, and the King jumped, startled on the bed. After a few shocked seconds, he sat up beside his wife. "There is something inside the wardrobe."

Enery looked at him with an unbelieving expression. "I know, Thranduil!"

"Where is my sword?" Thranduil fumbled for his weapon, throwing his legs over the bed.

"You left it in Elrond's study."

"Oh, you're right."

"I told you to put it on the trunk again but no, 'I will pick it up tomorrow, Enery. We are in Imladris, what could happen here?'" She mocked, mimicking his husband's voice and gestures. "Next time I tell you to do something, you do it right that _instant_ , you hear me?"

"Yes, I will, I am sorry. You are right."

Enery sighed, closing her eyes as she shook her head. "Here," she said, handing Thranduil a vase, "take this."

"It is a vase, Enery."

"I know what it is. Would you rather face whatever is in there empty handed? Because you are most welcomed to do so."

"Nay, I will take the vase."

"I thought you would."

Enery and Thranduil approached the wardrobe, the King holding the vase tight in his hands. He nodded towards the door, "You open it, I hit whatever is inside."

Enery nodded, as she put her hand on the knob. Taking a deep breath, she gave a short nod towards her husband and opened the door.

A white flash lit up the room for a second, just enough for the three occupants to see each other. Thranduil and Enery stared in shock at Legolas, who was throwing punches at the hanging clothes. Their son, in turn, looked at them. His gaze flickered from their faces to the vase in Thranduil's hand, and he screamed.

The ray passed, and they were engulfed in darkness yet again. "Legolas!" Thranduil exclaimed, the vase falling from his hand and shattering into a hundred pieces.

Legolas jumped back, tangling with the clothes. In an attempt to avoid falling his hand fumbled in the air, finding Thranduil's robe to grip on. The King, who had already been in a precarious position as he had bent to pick Legolas up, lost his footing and stumbled inside the wardrobe.

Suddenly, the door burst open and Daeron and Glorfindel, weapons drawn, run into the room.

"What's wrong?" Thranduil heard Daeron say. "Thranduil? What are you doing inside the wardrobe?!"

XxX

Elrond paused momentarily when Legolas winced and flinched away from touch. "I'm nearly done." He looked at him and waited for approval before bringing the cloth back to his forehead.

As was usual, Legolas' luck had taken a turn for the worse when the vase broke, and a piece of it had flown directly to his forehead. It was a shallow gash, and it should be closed by morning, but Elrond knew Thranduil and Enery would feel much better if he cleaned and treated it immediately.

"That's it, I'm done," he said, ruffling the elfling's hair. "You were very brave, Legolas."

The child said nothing, staring at the carpet just as he had been doing since Elrond reached the room. The Lord of Imladris had been awakened, along with the better part of the eastern wing of his house, at the sudden commotion. He had run to the King and Queen's bedroom only to find a very confused Glorfindel watching puzzled as Daeron and Enery helped Thranduil out of the wardrobe. And then, an unmistakable sob had been heard, accompanied by a miserable "Oh, _Ada_!" coming from somewhere inside the closet.

Elrond had decided to leave questions for morning, and had sat besides the Prince to examine the wound on his head, while Enery and Thranduil took turns in apologizing for the broken vase and hovering over their son.

"Really, Thranduil, it was a wedding gift from Galadriel. I never liked it that much, anyway." Elrond dismissed the King for the hundredth time. "I'm going to bed now, Celebrian was worried sick something had happened to you. I will tell her that…" Elrond hesitated, "I will tell her you will explain it in the morning."

Thranduil nodded, accompanying Daeron, Glorfindel and Elrond to the door. "I am very sorry for disturbing your sleep."

"Do not even mention it," Daeron said, throwing a last glance to the Prince to make sure he was alright. The elfling seemed to notice his stare, as he looked at him and attempted a half smile.

Once the family was left alone, Thranduil sat on the bed and took Legolas' hand. "What were you doing inside the wardrobe, Legolas?"

His son had done many strange things over the years, but this had to be one of the weirdest ones yet.

"I… I was trying to find your bed and I…," he sobbed.

"Why weren't you sleeping, _ion-nin_? Did something wake you?"

Legolas nodded, scrunching into himself.

"What was it?"

A loud thunder resonated through the room, and Legolas gasped as he climbed onto his father's lap. Thranduil hugged him, offering his warmth. "Are you afraid of the storm?" The King felt his son nodding, and he pressed a kiss to the golden head. "But it's just a storm!"

"It's very loud!" Legolas protested.

"It's just a little bit of rain and loud noises, Legolas. It can't harm us," Enery explained, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"I don't like it. Make it stop!"

"We can't make it stop, _ion-nin_."

Legolas looked at them as if they had gone mad. "Well, do something!"

Thranduil and Enery shared a look. Since their son had been but a baby, he had always been of the opinion that they could accomplish absolutely everything.

"Well, if we can't make the storm stop… we should join it!" Enery said, standing up and motioning his husband upwards.

"What?!" Both Legolas and Thranduil stared at her, the first with a fearful expression on his face, the second, puzzled as ever.

Enery waved them to follow her, putting a cloak over her shoulders as she opened the balcony doors and leaned on the railing. "Let's go!" She balanced over it, and suddenly disappeared.

"Enery! For Valar's sake!" Thranduil run outside, taking his cloak and sheltering Legolas with it from the rain. Thranduil looked down, where Enery was already waiting for them.

"Come on! It's not as if it were the first balcony you have jumped from!"

"What does she mean, _Ada_?" Legolas looked up with big curious eyes.

"Nothing little leaf. Your mother is a very strange _elleth_ indeed." Then, sighing, he added, "What we are about to do is very dangerous and you should absolutely refrain from trying to do it yourself, do you hear me?"

Legolas nodded.

"It's not as if it were the first balcony Legolas has climbed down from either, Thranduil. No point in trying to deny it."

"No point in encouraging this kind of behaviour either, Enery!"

At least both his wife and Legolas had the grace of looking embarrassed. They were too much alike in some ways.

"Alright, here we go. Legolas, hold tight."

True to Enery's words, however, Thranduil had climbed down many balconies in his life, and he reached the ground in mere seconds, Legolas safely tucked in his arms.

"Come on!" Enery urged them forwards, taking Thranduil's hand and running to the garden in front of the Last Homely House. Once there, she stopped and put her hands around her mouth as she shouted, "We are not afraid of you!"

"What on Arda are you doing, Enery?" Thranduil asked, wondering if his wife's wild Silvan blood had finally gotten the best of her.

"I'm letting the storm know that we are not afraid of it. You should do the same, it's really comforting."

"Enery, it's almost sunrise, I am not going to wake half of Imladris-"

The storm raged again, interrupting his words, and Legolas held onto his father for dear life. Thranduil sighed, giving his son an encouraging squeeze as he said, "We are certainly not afraid of you!"

Legolas looked at Thranduil and Enery, hesitant about what to do. The clashes and bangs were terrifying, but both his parents looked at ease, and shouting sounded like a genuinely funny thing to do. His mother gave him a wide smile.

"We are… not afraid?" he tried, but it came out more of a question than a statement, though his parents couldn't have looked prouder if he had learnt how to fly.

"Yes, my little leaf! Very good!"

"We are not afraid!" Enery shouted again, this time spinning herself with her arms spread open. She threw her head back, enjoying the drops slipping down on her face as her silver laugh stood out against the loud thunder.

Legolas twisted in Thranduil's grip, and the King lowered him to the ground. The elfling ran to his mother, who took his hands and jumped around in circles with him, humming a merry tune. The King marvelled at the way they both seem to blend with the nature, as if they were part of the storm, wild, yet powerful and elegant.

"Come on, Thranduil. Don't just stand there!"

"Come on, _Ada_." Legolas run to his side and grabbed his hand, pulling until Thranduil ceded and joined their dance, jumping and splashing water alongside them.

"Hey, Legolas, every time a thunder sounds, we have to splash _Ada_ , alright?"

"What?"

"YES!"

Thranduil feigned offence, gasping as he threw a mischievous look towards his wife. "And every time a ray flashes, we have to splash _Nana_ , yes?"

"YES!" Legolas looked over himself by now, all his previous grievances against the storm forgotten and clapped as he urged the clouds to give them more rays and thunders so he could cover his parents in water and mud.

They stayed out in the garden until the storm died down, and even when the clouds dispelled and the stars were visible again, Greenwood's Royal Family kept playing outside, not noticing the dark figure watching them from a window.

"What are they doing, _melleth_?" Celebrian asked her husband.

"They seem to be…dancing."

"Dancing? In this weather?"

Elrond nodded, shrugging and returning to the bed.

"And why do you think they are dancing?"

"I have not the slightest idea, Celebrian."

"These Greenwood elves," she said, as she rolled over and blew out the candle. "I sometimes wonder about their sanity."

* * *

 **True story, including the wardrobe part. I thought I had discovered the secret gateway to Narnia.**


	11. An Imitating Problem

**Thank you so much to everyone who read/reviewed last chapter! Sending lots of love to guest reviewers (Ninde, Nina and Art! Thanks so much!). Thanks to awilliamsbbc.98 for editing this!**

 **Summary:** A baby's first sentence is a matter of joy… it is not really Legolas' fault he has bad timing, is it?

 **Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil.

* * *

 **An Imitating Problem**

The Valar were fair, that was something Thranduil had been told since he was born. The Valar were fair, Ilúvatar was judicious, and the world was balanced. As balanced as it could be, that is. But the King of Greenwood was starting to doubt that piece of wisdom. For, if Ilúvatar was as farsighted as they said He was, why didn't Thranduil have the patience of an Ent?

"Legolas, _saes_ _ion-nin_ , just wear the circlet."

"No!" The little Prince said, taking the object in discord off of his head and throwing it against the wall. Thranduil dropped beside his son, massaging the bridge of his nose as he reached for the circlet. He examined it closely, noticing the small dents, fruit of the many bangs this poor piece of jewerly had suffered.

"I swear, I never was this difficult," Thranduil muttered under his breath, reaching for Legolas and setting him on his lap. "Legolas, you are going to wear this, whether you want to or not, do you hear me?"

"No!" The Prince said again, making a face and twisting in his father's lap. Thranduil took his hands and stilled him.

"Legolas!" He called, "You are going to wear the circlet, and that is the end of it."

Legolas sobbed, trying to break free from his father's clutch. When he came to the realization that there was no way out of that one, he turned his eyes towards Thranduil with a pout.

"Oh, no," Thranduil said, "That is not fair and you know it. You _are_ wearing the circlet."

Legolas' pout intensified.

"Legolas," Thranduil warned him.

A sniffle.

"Oh, vey well, you win." Thranduil took the circlet off his son's head, stood and returned it to the wooden box on the table. "You were going to take it off as soon as I walked out the bedroom, anyway."

Legolas chuckled, nodding and clapping as he watched the much hated circlet be put back where it belonged. There was then a quick rap at the door, and Thranduil turned to see Daeron enter the room.

"Good afternoon," the warrior merrily said, as he walked towards the King and reached for Legolas. "Alright, I've got him. You go and get dressed, we will wait for you at the yard. Elrond and the rest should be pretty near now."

"Yes, they should. Will you make sure he wears the cloak? It's cold today."

"Yes, of course."

"No!"

Thranduil and Daeron looked at Legolas, who was shaking his head.

"Legolas, I already let you welcome Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian without your circlet. You _are_ wearing the cloak."

"No!"

"Yes! Legolas, yes!" Thranduil pointed at him with a warning finger. "You are wearing the cloak and I will not be hearing anything more about this. Make sure he does." He said, looking at Daeron, who chuckled and nodded. With a last admonishing look towards his son, the King shook his head and made for the door. "I don't have time for this."

It was less than an hour later that Thranduil, Enery and a restless Legolas were waiting for the Imladris family on the green. The King and Queen shared an amused look as they watched the toddler play with his toys on the grass.

"As soon as they arrive, you stand up from the ground, alright Legolas?" Enery asked her son, who nodded.

Neighs were heard soon after, and Legolas obediently stumbled up and joined his parents, nibbling on the paw of his stuffed dog as he intently watched the riders appear from the verdant grove.

"Welcome, my dear friends." Thranduil said, stepping forward and formally bowing his head before Lord Elrond and his family. "I trust the journey here was uneventful."

"Well met, my King. It was, thank the Valar." Lord Elrond answered, returning the bow. His eyes flickered to something behind Thranduil, and his lips twitched into a smile. "Oh dear, is that Legolas?"

Thranduil nodded, as he turned and motioned his son forward. Legolas shyly took a few stumbling steps towards them, eyes fixed on the ground.

"How much he has grown!" Celebrian exclaimed, approaching them with Enery by her side. "He is handsome, Enery. He is going to be a charmer!"

"He already is! He has Thranduil around his little finger," the Queen said, laughing, delighted at the flush that was now spreading across her husband's face.

"Well, it's not as if you were any better," he berated mildly.

Elrond knelt beside the little Prince. "Last time I saw you, you were this high," he told him, lifting his hand at the height of Legolas' waist. The Prince quickly checked it out, going back to studying the ground before him immediately after. If he didn't know any better, Elrond would think the elfling had never seen a leaf of grass in his life.

"Legolas, say 'hi' to Lord Elrond." The King encouraged, crouching beside them and gently patting his son's back.

Legolas looked askance at the newcomer, conscious of everyone's eyes turned towards him. Then he sighed dramatically, flushing a strand of hair back, as he babbled in a tiny, baby voice, "I don't have time for this."

Thranduil blinked at his son, gasping. Or, at least, thinking about gasping, he never knew if any actual sound came out of his aghast mouth. He watched Legolas turn and take small but decisive steps towards Daeron as he raised his arms in a silent petition to be picked up. 'Maybe they have not understood it,' he thought, 'it was pretty much baby talk. Maybe I misunderstood him and my son did not just say he did not have time for the Lord of Imladris.'

But one look at Elrond's face was enough to know that Legolas' words had been clear enough, and judging by the sudden burst of laughs the twins melted in and Arwen's snickering, it had not only been clear, but loud.

"If it is any consolation," the King gulped, "that's the longest sentence he's ever said."

XxX

Thranduil played with his food, staring disinterestedly at the perfectly cut tomato on his plate.

"Thranduil," Elrond brought his head out of the clouds, "Please, stop thinking about it. He is but a toddler, I don't think he even knew what he was saying. And besides, it is not as if he has thrown a fist of mud at me, like someone," he said, looking sharply at Elrohir, who hid behind his cup, "Did to you all those years back."

"That was pretty funny," Thranduil said, smiling fondly at the twin.

"Well, so is this! 'I don't have time for this' is a _great_ first sentence. Think about how much you are going to be able to embarrass him in the future with this story."

"Yes, I suppose you are right," Thranduil chuckled, "I wonder where on Arda he has heard that sentence, anyway."

Enery chocked on her water, getting everyone's attention as she looked at her husband with an amazed expression. "You are kidding right? Where has he picked up that sentence?"

Thranduil frowned, nodding and reiterating his question. "Yes, where has he?"

"Obviously you, Thranduil!" She laughed, "'I don't have time for this' is your favourite expression ever! You are saying it all the time, Legolas is just copying you."

"No, I am not!" Thranduil said, as he turned towards Elrond looking for reinforcements. "I am not, right Elrond?"

"Well, you _do_ seem to like that sentence, I'm afraid." Elrond shuddered.

"Just give up, _melleth_. You say it quite a lot, but there is nothing to be embarrassed about! You are a busy King." Enery grasped her husband's hand, squeezing it. "And Legolas is just trying to be like his father in every single aspect of his life, even if it means becoming the most sarcastic little elfling in all Middle-Earth."

Thranduil shook his head, smiling in spite of the situation. He sighed, turning his head towards the servant that had just entered the room and motioning him forward. The elf approached the table and whispered to the King and Queen, "He is crying."

Thranduil sighed, pushing the chair back as he stood. "I've got him," he told Enery. "Enjoy the rest of the dinner." The others smiled back and Thranduil left the room.

The King reached the dark wood door soon after, and pressed an ear against the polished surface. He picked up soft sobs coming from inside, and opened the door trying to prevent it from squeaking. The shadows danced around the candle Thranduil was carrying, and the King saw the shape of his son sitting up on the crib, with his stuffed dog clutched in one hand. He left the candle on the table and smiled down at Legolas, who stood up and leant on the slats. The King bent and picked him up, placing a kiss on top of the golden head.

"Why are you still awake, my little leaf?" He whispered, rocking him back and forth. Legolas made himself comfortable in his father's arms as Thranduil grabbed a chair and headed for the balcony.

The King sat with Legolas on his lap. "Look at the stars," he whispered, pointing at the sky. Legolas followed his finger and opened his eyes wide.

"Ooh," he said in amazement.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" Thranduil chuckled, as he hugged his son closer when a cold breeze made the elfling shiver. Legolas then babbled something, looking at his father curiously. "The bright star over there?" Thranduil asked, and Legolas nodded. The King smiled, congratulating himself on having guessed his son's words once again. A true gift of his, he was the only one able to communicate with the elfling. It drove Enery crazy. "That is the Star of Eärendil, my little leaf, Elrond's dad."

Legolas blinked at him, confused.

"Never mind," Thranduil laughed. "That's a story for another time."

"… time?" Legolas repeated, tilting his head. Thranduil snapped his eyes back at him, chuckling in shock.

"Very good, Legolas! I guess you _are_ repeating after me, aren't you? Even if you have no idea what you are saying."

Legolas giggled, clapping at his father's amusement.

"Alright, here goes nothing. Legolas, say: 'I am Legolas'." He pressed a finger to his son's chest when he said his name.

The elfling grabbed his father's hand, as he said, "I am 'Leolas'"

"That is very good!" Thranduil got his son's hands and clapped them together, as he rubbed his nose against his. "You are a clever, clever elfling. Now say: 'I love _Ada_ '."

"I love _Ada_!" Legolas repeated, jumping in excitement on his father's lap. Thranduil hugged him closer, swaying merrily from side to side on the chair as he blew a raspberry on his son's neck, eliciting delighted laughs and shrieks. Legolas pushed his father's face away.

"I love you too, my little leaf!" The King said. Then, with a teasing glint on his eyes, he added, "Alright, what about this: 'I love…'"

"I love…"

" _Ada_ …"

" _Ada_ …"

"Better than _Nana_."

"Better than _Nana_."

"Why, thank you very much, Legolas! That is great to hear! Wait until your mother hears of this." He chuckled, as he cradled Legolas and hummed a lullaby. He rested his head on the wall behind, his mind wandering away and his gaze scanning the twinkling stars that kept vigil over them. Then, with a start, he looked down on his son and patted his tummy.

"Oh, oh, Legolas. Last one, please," he said. The elfling opened his eyes expectantly. "Say: 'Daeron, you stink.'"

"Daeron," Legolas sighed, his eyes drifting shut, "you stink."

"That's great, my little leaf." Thranduil said, kissing his forehead. "Oh, how much fun we are going to have, you and I."

* * *

 **I hope you liked it! I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


	12. A Market Problem

**Thank you so much to all who reviewed last chapter (guest reviewers, Nina and earthdragon, thanks a lot!) I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was going to be short… until it wasn't. A big thank you to awilliamsbbc98 for beta-reading!**

 **Summary:** Legolas' desire to see the dancers ends up in a poor little elf lost in a huge and crowded human market.

 **Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil, Enery.

* * *

 **A Market Problem**

The bustle was evident even before turning the corner that led to the market, as was usual on Wednesday mornings. Arod felt a tingling in his stomach. Since childhood, going to the market had always been a major event. To Arod, who had not set foot out of Lake Town, the hundreds of merchants who came from distant lands to illuminate the imagination of a child with tales of old made the Wednesday's market look like a great party of light and colour to look forward to. Arod shook his head, pushing his childish illusions back. He was an adult now, with duties, responsibilities and a family of his own to take care of. It would not do any good if he got himself kicked out of the Lake Town Guard for allowing his fantasies get in the way of properly escorting the Greenwood Royal Family.

Arod examined the small elven retinue out of the corner of his eye. The King and Queen went first, with their son between them. The two adult elves were exactly as Arod had imagined them, and, at the same time, completely different. A head taller than Arod, their elegant demeanour stood out among the crowds. It almost looked like they were not even walking, but gliding down the street. The Queen was easily the most beautiful being that Arod had ever set eyes upon, her soft features capable of tearing a smile from the most desperate man. The King had a serene countenance, but his beauty was of a different kind, like that of an old tree that stands up to the wind and water that threaten to uproot it. They made a formidable couple.

Now, the small tireless little being they carried between them was the complete opposite. Not that he was not charming, oh no, he was one the loveliest children Arod had met. And those big blue eyes of his would make an _elleth_ very happy one day, Arod was sure. But the elfling was like a bolt of energy, and Arod wondered if perhaps the grace and elegance of the elves was something they acquired over time. It was difficult to keep count of all the times the little Prince had fallen since they had left the palace, mainly by trying to climb every single thing that rose more than two feet from the ground. Luckily, everyone seemed used to this, for either his parents or the one that the King referred to as Daeron were always there to prevent greater evils.

Arod saw the King squeeze his son's hand, calling for his attention.

"Legolas," he said, "do not let go, alright? Don't go anywhere without me or you mother."

"And Daeron?" the Prince asked in a language Arod did not understand, without taking his eyes off the first market stall, where bright jewels and colourful cloths hung from.

"In Westron, Legolas," his father scolded him, "you know it is impolite to speak in a language unknown to the people around you. You can go with Daeron too. Either me, mum or Daeron, alright?"

The elfling nodded, but the King did not seem content with it. He gently shook Legolas' hand. "Legolas, look at me when I'm speaking to you." The Prince somehow managed to tear his eyes from the market and turn them towards his father. "Did you understand me?"

"Yes, _Ada_ ," he said, this time in Westron.

The King's gaze lingered a couple seconds more, as if to make sure the little prince really meant what he said. Arod tried to hide a smile. Human or elf, children would always be the same.

At last Thranduil seemed satisfied, as he resumed his path and submerged into the crowd. Arod and the other guards kept a circle around the elves, though he was pretty sure that if they were to encounter trouble none of them would really need much protection, save perhaps the little elf. Arod had seen weapons concealed among the elves' robes, and he could not really blame them. In spite of the good relationship they maintained with the Greenwood elves, some men still resented and distrusted them, a feeling born only from ignorance. But the King and Queen had been curious about the market, and the Master of Lake Town had seemed very pleased with the interest they took in his town.

" _Ada_ , look!" Arod heard, as he watched the Prince pull from his father's hand until they came to a small stand filled with parchments and feather. "They are like Erestor's!"

"Yes, little leaf. Look, that one is the exact same one as-" The King could not continue his words, as his son dragged him back to the opposite stand, shouting something about the flowers and plants that rested on the table.

Arod saw the Queen let go of his son's hand and fall behind, next to Daeron.

"Already giving up?" The elf asked.

"His father is more than capable of controlling him," laughed the Queen. "I wonder how long he will last before regretting having brought him to the market."

"Not five more minutes, I'm afraid. Legolas looks very happy, though,"

"He has hundreds of sources of distraction around him, new corners to explore and new people to interrogate with his endless questions. He is living the dream."

The two elves laughed, and this time Arod could not help laughing himself. The Queen noticed it and she smiled at him.

"Do you have children?" She kindly asked.

Arod nodded, cautious. He was a simple guard, he should not be talking to the Queen. If his captain found out, he would skin him alive.

"How many?" The _elleth_ insisted.

"Two. One somewhat older than your son, and the other around his age. In appearances, I mean," he added, having heard the stories of little elven children who were older than their human eldest.

The Queen nodded, and she seemed to want to add something else when a small hand tugged at her clothes. She looked down and took the pink flower her son was offering.

"I bought it for you," Legolas said.

"Really? It's the prettiest flower I have ever seen!"

Legolas turned around, a smile illuminating his face. "Did you hear that, _Ada_?"

The King approached them, nodding. He bent down and took the elfling into his arms, kissing his cheek.

" _Ada_!" The Prince protested, trying to turn his face away. "Stop it!"

"Oh no!" Thranduil gasped, feigning a sad face. "My elfling does not love me anymore! Give back the necklace I just bought you, then!"

"Oh no! I love you very much, see?" Legolas kissed his father's face, holding to the shiny necklace on his pocket.

The King laughed and lowered the elfling to the ground, ruffling his hair and offering him his hand. Before the elfling took it, however, a lively tune sounded from somewhere on the central square, enlivening the atmosphere. Couples began to form, and they danced in graceful circles while people around them clapped the rhythm.

" _ADA!_ A DANCE!" Legolas exclaimed, the hand his father was offering him entirely forgotten. Suddenly, the elfling sprinted towards the square, completely absorbed by the magic of the music.

"Legolas!" His father yelled, breaking into a run. Enery and Daeron promptly followed, all too used to the Prince's ability to disappear in the blink of an eye. Arod followed them with the rest of the soldiers, catching up with the three adult elves right on the edge of the circle from where everyone watched the dancers.

"Where is he?" Enery cried out, looking around her.

"I do not know! I've lost sight of him! He got between the people and I lost him!" Thranduil replied, anguish impregnating his words.

Arod stood on tiptoe, fighting to see something among the dozens of heads. Legolas was clearly distinguishable by his blond hair, but he was also too small to stand out. He signalled two guards to keep an eye out from the entrance of the adjacent streets.

"Thranduil I do not see him," Enery said, trying to make her way through the crowd. "I do not see him!"

"Legolas!" The King twirled around, his racing heart threatening to come out of his chest in pure distress, "Where are you?"

XxX

Legolas crouched down and broke through the many legs that stood before him and the dancing couples. Music was something he wholeheartedly loved, and, on top of that, there were people dancing to it, so it was utterly unthinkable Legolas would miss such a show.

But he was a little elf who did not even reach the waist of an adult human, and no matter how hard he tried, he soon found himself spinning in a sea of legs. He suddenly lost all notion of where he was, and people began to squeeze and crush him. Legolas was pushed against a wall, his eyes filling with tears as his breath escaped his lungs. He looked around him, desperately looking for an escape route.

Suddenly, a hand took his and pushed him to one side. He let himself be carried away, and he soon found himself standing on an empty street.

"Are you alright?" A woman was crouching before him, combing his head back and wiping the tears from his face.

Legolas watched her closely. She wore an emerald dress, too short on the arms and legs. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back in a braid.

"Do you speak my language?" The woman asked with a rough Westron accent.

Legolas nodded. "A little."

"Are you lost?"

Legolas opened his eyes wide, his parents suddenly coming back to his mind. He had been so excited by the music that he had completely forgotten that he was not supposed to be anywhere without them. They were going to punish him to cleaning duties for the rest of the Age. Legolas looked at the woman again, unable to hold back tears as a great sob shook him. The woman seemed to sympathize, as she hugged him, patting his back.

"There, there," she said, "do not worry any more. We will find them, alright? Do you want to come home and wait for them there?"

Legolas examined the woman again. His parents had told him repeatedly that he should not trust strangers, but this woman seemed genuinely nice. Also, he would do anything to avoid going back to that square. "Alright," he said, "Thank you very much, Lady…" Legolas frowned, horrified when he realized he had not even asked for this woman's name.

The woman threw her head back as a loud laugh echoed down the street. "Oh no, no, little one. I am not a lady. You can call me Freda. Just Freda. What is your name?"

"Legolas," he timidly said.

Freda took his hand and got up, walking resolutely down the street. "We are going home, alright? I will introduce you to my sons, you three will get along just fine. And you can play while I go look for your parents, don't worry."

Legolas did not utter a word all the way towards the house, the woman guiding him through rambling and twisted streets. The white houses with balconies full of flowers in bloom soon became small dirty brown cabins. Rare was the house that had something of green on it. The atmosphere also became charged, and the waters of the lake lost their shiny blue. The woman continued speaking, showing Legolas where the nicest neighbours lived, and with which she had some unresolved quarrel. Legolas wondered if all humans were that talkative. Or maybe it was that the elves were too quiet. Be that as it may, Legolas liked Freda. She was kind and always smiled at him. She even bought him an apple.

Finally, Freda stopped in front of a low house, made of a wood so dark it looked black. "Well, here we are. It's not much," she said, squeezing Legolas' hand and smiling down on him, "but it is home."

Legolas nodded, doing all he could not to wince when the smell of fish suddenly invaded his nostrils. With Freda's help, he climbed the high steps and stood in front of the corroded door. Freda lowered the handlebar, pushing with her shoulder and forcing the door open. "Come on in," she said, "don't be shy."

Legolas entered the house and observed the room in amaze. In a chamber the size of his bathroom back at the Palace, Freda had somehow managed to fit in four beds, a small kitchen and a wooden table surrounded by chairs that seemed a breath away from dissolving into dust. The elfling wondered if perhaps the house had some hidden rooms, but it seemed impolite to ask.

"Dilon! Berguil! Get out of wherever you are hiding and come greet our guest!"

Two children, one of Legolas' height and the other slightly taller appeared from behind a bed. They cautiously approached the elfling, who shyly looked down at the floor.

"This is Dilon," the woman said, pointing towards the shorter boy, "and this is Berguil, my oldest. Boys, meet Legolas. He got lost at the market and he is going to stay with us until his parents come to retrieve him, alright?"

The two children nodded, and the older boy took a step forward, offering Legolas a hand. The little prince looked at him in shock. He did not know what he was supposed to do with that hand. Freda seemed to understand his dilemma, and took Legolas' hand, joining it with Berguil's.

"We greet each other by shaking hands this way," she explained. "How do you greet each other in your Realm?"

"We bow," Legolas said, bending his head to show them what he meant.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Freda laughed, "I love learning about different customs. Will you teach us more about your people, little Legolas?"

The elfling smiled, nodding.

"Why… why are your ears pointy?" Dilon asked with a small voice.

"Erestor told me it was because I am an elf," Legolas said, holding a hand to his ears. "Yours are round." He pointed out.

"Yes, of course they are round. I suppose… that is because I am human?" He looked at his mother, who assented with her head.

Both children nodded thoughtfully and, at the same time, said, "It makes sense."

They looked at each other timidly, but soon a smile appeared on both their faces.

"See? You are already friends!" said Freda waving them off. "Go, play with your toys. Your uncle should be here at any moment. He will stay with you and I will go to the market and look for Legolas' parents." Freda turned at a knock on the door, and opened the door to her brother, a big man with his arms loaded with cakes. "Oh, hello, Bregalad! We were just talking about you!"

"Good morning! I just met a fairy in the woods and she has given me these candies, but they are only fit for good children!" He said, smiling at his nephews and putting down the pastries.

"You spoil them too much, Bregalad. Can I talk to you for a second? I was in the market this morning," she said, "and I found a lost child. Can you look after them while I go back and look for his parents?"

"Well, of course! Where is he?" The man's face suddenly darkened, his eyes locked on Legolas. Freda noticed the change on the atmosphere, and so seemed to do Legolas, for he blushed and fidgeted under his scrutiny.

"Bregalad, this is Legolas," Freda said, unsure. His brother turner to her and took her arm, pulling her away from the children.

"What do you think you are doing, Freda? Have you gone crazy?"

"What do you mean?" She said, pushing the man's hand away.

"He's an elf!" He hissed.

"I know what he is, you fool!"

"What are you thinking about, hosting an elf under your roof? Have you not heard the rumours? They are dangerous. You do not want this kind of…" he hesitated, his eyes going back to Legolas for a second, "creature near your sons. Throw him out of your house, let the elves fend for themselves."

"What are you talking about? Throw him out of my house? He's only a child! And you should not believe everything you hear!"

"The brother of Hasufel's neighbour told the innkeeper that these Woodelves had- Ouch!" Bregalad crouched, trying to protect himself as best as he could from the broom his sister was now wielding with fury, but he could do little to avoid the blows.

"The only one I am going to throw out of my house is you, my _dear_ brother. If only father could hear you... throwing children out of my house, indeed! Crawl back to that tavern of yours, and do not come back until you have got ridden of those ideas." Freda kept hitting her brother until he came out the house. After taking a few deep breaths, she turned around and found three aghast children staring at her. Freda set the broom aside and brushed off the dust from her dress. "Well, who wants to have lunch?"

Her two sons raised their hands in a hurry, but Legolas was frozen on the spot. Freda crouched in front of him, brushing a strand of blond hair off his forehead. "It seems like I can't leave for your parents yet, my little friend. We will wait for my husband to get here and then he will go to look for them, alright?" Freda waited until the elf nodded dubiously, and then he smiled at her. "Let's eat something. You must be starving with so much excitement!"

XxX

Arod reluctantly crossed the bridge to his house, observing the first stars that had begun to appear in the sky. With any luck, they would remain uncovered through the night and the moonlight would help the search parties. As sorry as he had been, the soldier had finally had to leave them for his house. His guard shift had been over for hours, though Arod had insisted on staying longer to help look for the lost prince. He did not have to, but the parents' anguish was palpable, and Arod could not in good conscience leave them there. But with the fall of night, the man had had no choice but to cease in his efforts. His own family would be waiting for him, probably worried about his tardiness, and a tired man was little help to untiring elves and rested soldiers whose shifts began at sundown.

Arod lumbered up the stairs, frowning at the creaking of the step he had fixed not a week ago. He leaned against the door, closing his eyes for a moment and enjoying the sound of his sons playing and his wife humming as she cooked dinner. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open when he heard a third child's voice. A voice that was vaguely familiar. A chill ran through him from top to bottom, and he opened the door without further delay.

His eyes immediately fell on the blond figure playing with wooden horses beside his children. His wife approached him, wiping her hand on a rag.

"Arod, finally! I was beginning to worry!" Freda kissed the soldier's cheek and then nodded towards the elfling. "He is Legolas, I found him in the market. He got lost and did not know where his parents were. I wanted to make it back to the market and look for them, but I was afraid to leave the children on their own. Would you mind going to the palace and… what was that?"

Arod swallowed hard, his eyes still on the child playing with his own sons. "That is Prince Legolas, Freda. The son of the King of Greenwood and his heir. He got lost this morning in the market. That's why I am late, we have been looking for him everywhere!"

Freda stood motionless, holding her husband's hand and searching his face, looking for any sign Arod was joking. His brother's words came back to her mind for a moment, but Freda quickly dismissed them. "The prince, you say?"

Arod nodded, at last looking at her. "We have to tell his parents." He gulped.

"Yes. Go get them, I will stay here with them." She looked around, noticing the mess and filth. "Do you think the King and Queen will come here in person?"

"I am sure of it," Arod said, thinking back at the tireless monarchs looking for their son even in the most unthinkable places.

"Ai, no. This place is a mess. Arod! What if they think I took him on purpose?!"

"Easy there, they seemed like understanding people."

"I hope you are right."

Arod nodded, lightly squeezing his wife's hand and kissing her cheek. "I'll be right back."

Freda saw her husband disappear into the night, and she promptly grabbed the broom again, cleaning the house as best as she could. She ordered the containers, and washed the pans until they were shiny and clean. She redressed her sons in their best clothes and, once everything was done, sat down in one of the chairs to wait.

Not much time had passed when there were hurried footsteps on the stairs and a strong arm opened the door. An elf and an _elleth_ , both so tall they had to duck in the entrance, burst into the room. The _elleth_ let out a small cry of relief and fell beside the elfling, who held onto her tightly. Dilon and Berguil ran to their parents, who watched the scene from a corner. The King had also fallen in front of his son, and the three merged into a hug. Then, the King seemed to notice the four humans and he recomposed himself, helping his wife, who had Legolas in her arms, up.

"Is she your wife?" He asked Arod. The man nodded, and Freda took a step forward.

"I am extremely sorry to have brought your son to my house, my King. Had I known that-" Freda fell silent when the King raised a hand.

"Please, do not feel sorry for anything. We are the ones who are in your debt. Had something befallen my son I…" the King turned and looked at Legolas affectionately. "… I do not know what I would do. I appreciate very much that you took him with you and took such good care of him. The Greenwood Realm will forever be in your debt. Is there anything we can do in gratitude?" He asked, exchanging glances with Arod and Freda. Arod shook his head, but Freda looked doubtfully at Legolas and nodded.

"Your son did not want to eat anything I cooked but some bread rolls that he seemed to enjoy greatly," she said. "I have a full basket of them, will you take it? I know it's not much, but he really seemed to like them. Of course, I do not mean to disrespect you with my poor cooking, my Lords, I just thought…" Freda lowered her head, blushing at her loss of words.

"Legolas has the appetite of a newly hatched sparrow, something that has been cause of concern to us since he was born," the King explained, smiling at Freda, "We would greatly appreciate anything that he seems to like."

Freda nodded, picking up a basket covered with a red cloth. "Here it is," she said, "oh no, please. It is not necessary for you to pay me. I do it with great pleasure. The Prince is charming."

Thranduil put the coins back on his pocket, and an awkward silence fell upon the room. The King and Queen looked at each other in what seemed like a silent conversation. At last, the Queen intervened.

"Thank you very much for everything, to both of you. As my husband said, we are in debt to you." She then looked at Legolas and said, "do you want to say goodbye to your friends?"

Legolas nodded fervently and slipped out of his mother's arms. He ran to Freda and bowed formally before her. "Thank you very much, Lady Freda."

He went then to the two children and, after a moment of doubt, extended his hand. They squeezed it vigorously. Dilon reached down and picked up the wooden horse Legolas had been playing with, offering it to him. "Take this," he said, "this way, you will not forget us."

"I could never forget you, Dilon." Legolas said. He put the wooden horse on his pocket and took out the bright pendant his father had bought him that morning. "I am sorry I do not have two," he apologized, "but I hope you will not forget me either."

Freda and Arod gasped, looking wide eyed at the jewel. It was undoubtedly much more expensive than they could ever afford. Arod looked at the Queen and said, "We can't accept such a present, my lady."

"Nonsense, it's Legolas' gift. Of course you can accept it." She kindly waved her off, as she reached out to Legolas. The three elves turned towards the door. "Again," she added, "we are in your debt. If you ever need help, do not forget your friends, the Greenwood elves. May the flowers always grow at your feet." And with that they were gone, lost in the shadows of Lake Town.

"'May the flowers always grow at your feet.' Aren't the elves poetic." Freda smiled. She closed the door and added, "Well, who wants to dine?" Three pairs of hand shot up to the sky.

From that day on, a bag full of coins appeared yearly at Arod and Freda's doorstep, with enough money to buy them a nice house in the upper part of the city and live comfortably there. In return, a basket of bread rolls was never missing from the Royal Family's table. One day, though, the baskets stopped coming.

The people of Lake Town would often ask why Arod and Freda's graves would have flowers on them even on the cruellest winters, and Dilon and Berguil would tell the tale of a lost elven prince their mother had once come from the market with. The others would laugh and shake their heads, thinking the two brothers were raving with age, but they both knew the truth, and that was enough for them.

Many years later, on a clear winter morn, Dilon felt strong enough to walk to the cemetery and clean his parents' and brother's grave. How great his surprise would be when he got to Berguil's last resting place and found a little wooden horse tangled in between the flowers.

* * *

 **Bittersweet ending, the best kind. I hope you enjoyed it. I would LOVE to hear what you think about this extra-long chapter!**

 **A bit of Spanish culture (and the inspiration for this story) ahead!**

 **Once a year, in many Spanish cities, 'Mercados Medievales' are held (I think the translation would be Medieval Market). It is as if we travelled back in time to the Middle Ages (or to Middle-Earth!). The streets are decorated with flags and banners, people wear really accurate costumes (you can find knights, damsels, merchants…), there are jousting tournaments, falconry exhibitions and there are minstrels and dancers everywhere. It is magical, so no wonder why I got lost in one of these medieval markets once! I really just wanted to see the dancers. Do you hold this kind of markets on your country?**


	13. A Shadow Problem

**Hi there! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Nina, earthdragon (thanks for letting me know about medieval festivals in the UK!) and Ninde (¡hola! ¡Qué bien que alguien más hable español por aquí!), thanks a lot!**

 **One of these days I'll go back to posting on Saturdays… but today is not that day! Since I missed last week's update and I've had this ready for a couple days now, I thought you wouldn't mind an early post. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Thanks to awilliamsbbc98 for beta-reading!**

 **Summary:** Greenwood is a kingdom at war, and it is only a matter of time before the youngest among the elves have their first contact with the enemy.

 **Characters:** Legolas, Thranduil.

* * *

 **A Shadow Problem**

Silence; the most deafening sound of them all.

Especially the silence of one who by no means should be quiet but jumping around, climbing trees, ready to explore the whole world with those big blue eyes that seemed too afraid to blink in case they missed something.

For him to be sitting on his father's lap, eyes clenched close and his hands covering his ears, as if trying to shut the whole world down, was not right. It was not fair.

Greenwood was a realm at war, that was sadly undeniable. Overshadowed as it was by darkness, it was only a matter of time before the youngest had their first contact with the enemy. But that was precisely why they were trained without end and taught everything the elves knew about the shadow that lurked, before being allowed to enter the depths of the forest. There was a reason why Thranduil had established a security perimeter around the Palace, which the younger ones among them were not authorized to trespass unless they were accompanied by someone trained, or someone who, at the very least, already knew of the shadow and its dangers. And yet, in spite of all their precautions, the first contact with darkness and its creatures was always something terrifying, something everyone remembered for the rest of their lives, and nobody was willing to talk about. So, if it had that effect on the most prepared elves, what wouldn't it do to an elfling who did not even fully understand what darkness was?

To be fair, no one was really to blame. Since leaving Lake Town, Legolas had seemed to grow a pair of extra shadows. Daeron and Thranduil had hovered over him constantly, to the point that Legolas hadn't breathed without them knowing. But the shadow only needed to get it right once.

A shiver ran through Kaela's body at the remembrance of Thranduil's panicked face when he had discovered that the shape on his son's bed was not him, but, in fact, a carefully folded pillow. Orders had been promptly given, and every elf had spread out to find the little Prince. They were only a few elves, but they worked and searched like a hundred. And how formidable Thranduil had looked. His eyes had shone like stars, as if illuminated by Varda herself, and his hair braided in the warrior fashion made him look like the fearsome King Kaela knew he was. If only his enemies had seen him, they would have never dared to set foot in Greenwood again. It made Kaela proud to call him King, and judging by the faces of every other warrior on the party, he was not the only one. Thranduil had searched tirelessly, and the healer could swear the trees bowed at his path.

Thank the Valar, it had not been long until they found Legolas. Or rather, until they heard him. Every elf's heart had stopped at the loud scream that had echoed through the forest.

" _Ada!_ "

Kaela had instantly felt someone pass him at a speed he had thought impossible until then, everyone following not a second later. Kaela gulped, and shook his head at the horrifying scene they had run into.

Legolas, a little elfling full of light, twisted around in the arms of a laughing orc.

"Let him go," Thranduil had hissed, and the world had frozen at his words. The forest had fallen in a tense silence, and even the stars seemed to pale.

The orc had simply laughed harder, proof of the little intelligence these creatures possessed. You did _not_ laugh while holding the King's son against his will. And you most certainly did not laugh when the King ordered you something. You ran as fast as you could and prayed Thranduil was having a slow day. Though Kaela suspected that not even Melkor himself would have been able to give shelter to the creature now.

Everything that followed was a blur on Kaela's mind. Everything, that is, but the white and golden bolt Thranduil had turned into. He remembered that with surprising detail. The healer was pretty sure Thranduil alone could have fought and killed every orc in the forest.

The next thing Kaela recalled was falling to his knees in front of Thranduil, who was slumped against a tree with a trembling elfling completely tucked into his tunic. The King had his eyes closed, and all his body was folded around his son, as he whispered him something Kaela could not quite catch.

"Thranduil," he had said, "Thranduil let me see. I need to see Legolas."

But the King had not moved, or even acknowledged Kaela. He had continued to rock his son, who was missing from the world buried in his father's embrace. Kaela had to physically remove Thranduil's arms so he could get a glimpse of the elfling.

The healer sat on his heels, head down, as he recalled how small Legolas had seemed. Eyes completely shut, he had been clinging to his father's tunic for dear life. There were stains of blood on his clothes, and a gash on his head. Kaela had run his hands over the elfling's body, in search of further injury, and had looked for any reaction from Legolas. He had none, whether it was for the absence of wounds or the shock, Kaela did not know, but it made his heart unsettle. At the end, the healer had to force Legolas out of his father's arms so he could take a proper look, and he did not know who had suffered more from the momentary separation, Legolas or the King. Daeron had almost had to sit on Thranduil so he wouldn't snap Legolas out of Kaela's hands. And the poor child had cried and kicked in spite of the healer's reassurances. Legolas had sustained several bruises and shallow gashes, but they would have to wait until everyone was calmer. Sometimes, peace of mind was more effective than physical wellbeing.

Once back in the camp, Thranduil had fallen against a tree again, closed his eyes, and he and Legolas had shut themselves from the world. Kaela was fairly sure an oliphant could come stomp down the camp and they would not have noticed it.

"How are they?" Daeron interrupted Kaela's thoughts, handing him a roll of bandages that the healer put on his bag as he eyed the King and Prince.

"I don't know. They won't talk or even react to anyone. It's as if they were in a bubble and no one is allowed in."

Daeron looked at the slumped figure. He had never seen his friend, the King, as defeated-looking as he was now. "Legolas is far too young to have faced such darkness, Kaela."

"I know." Kaela massaged the bridge of his nose, preoccupied.

"And he just…," Daeron said in a trembling voice. Kaela glanced him and saw he had bright eyes. "He is just so innocent; he doesn't deserve this."

"He doesn't."

They turned at the sudden rustle of clothing, and they saw Thranduil stand up and walk to his tent, without sparing a glance to any of the elves he passed. He let the curtain that served as door fall and disappeared, once again, from the world.

XxX

Thranduil could very well remember the first time he had seen an orc. It had taken all his willpower and restrain not to be sick, especially after learning where those treacherous creatures came from. But he had been old enough, trained and warned over and over again about it.

His son was not.

His son was an innocent child, whose young age was no match for his thirst for the world.

Thranduil sat Legolas on the bed, as he divested him of the stained tunic. The King examined the bright blue marred with blood and mud. It could probably be cleaned, but Thranduil did not think he could bear to look at it again. He walked towards the entrance of the tent and stepped outside. Immediately, Daeron was in front of him.

"Burn it," Thranduil handed him the tunic. "Fray it, turn it into bandages, I don't care."

Daeron nodded and took the tunic, walking towards the fire. Thranduil turned and closed the tent again. Legolas was sitting on the bed, looking down. At least he was no longer covering his ears. Little steps.

Thranduil kneeled in front of the big trunk that contained Legolas' clothes and went through it, looking for something warm. "I am never letting your mother pack again. And if she is, I expect her to include a map through this," he muttered to himself, looking dismayed at the towers of clothes.

At last he resigned for the first thing he saw and helped Legolas up. Thranduil could feel his hands trembling as he distractedly put the clothing over his son's head. He frowned when he found himself staring at an extra limb he did not know where to put. "What is this? Why does this thing have three sleeves?" He said, as he took the extra part and inspected it.

"I think that's a leg."

Thranduil's head shot up in surprise. That was the first time his son had talked since he had been freed from the orc.

"A leg?" Thranduil asked, smiling softly. He had to tread carefully now. Legolas nodded and looked down.

"I think this is the head," he pointed at a hole, bringing it to eye level and examining it just as Thranduil had done before.

"Nay, it's too small. That must be an arm." The King sat beside his son. "Maybe this is the head?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know either."

Father and son looked at each other for a moment, and Thranduil felt his heart skip a beat when a faint smile appeared on Legolas' lips. He pointed at it with a finger as he gasped.

"Did you just smile? You did! You smiled!" He exclaimed, humming a merry tune. "Now you can't be sad!"

Legolas swiftly schooled his expression, but could not contain himself once his father took his hands and made him dance to the rhythm of the melody he sang. "You've smiled, you can be sad no more."

"Yes, I can."

"No, you can't. Once you've smiled, you can't be sad. Everyone knows this."

"But I am still a bit sad." Legolas suddenly became serious, limply dropping his arms to his side with a lost expression on his face. His father sighed, taking him in his arms.

"I know, my little one. I am a bit sad too," he said, as he reached for a simple green shirt and put it over his son's head.

"Why was that animal so bad?"

Thranduil looked forward at the entrance of the tent, unable to face his son and the sadness that his words brought. "That… animal is called an orc, little leaf. And they are bad by nature."

"Like the squirrel that scratched me that time?"

"No," Thranduil half laughed, "that squirrel was just scared. Orcs are evil and they seek to do harm."

Legolas nodded slowly. "He said he was going to eat me," he whispered.

Thranduil felt his heart burst in flames as he hugged Legolas tighter. "I swear nothing bad will happen to you while I'm here, _ion-nin_. I swear it."

" _Ada_ , why are the shadows bad?"

"They are not bad in themselves, little leaf," Thranduil said with a heavy sigh. A fleeting thought crossed his mind and he smiled at his son. "In fact, shadows can be very funny if you know how to use them."

"That's not true. They are ugly and bad and not funny at all."

"I'll show you." Thranduil stood up and walked towards the entrance, stopping when Legolas clung to him tightly.

"I don't want to go outside," he cried out, burying his face on his father's tunic.

"Legolas, look at me." Thranduil grabbed his son's chin and gently turned his face towards him. "Do you trust me?"

Legolas nodded without hesitation, and Thranduil pushed back the cloth that separated them from the camp. Immediately, every warrior's gaze was upon them, but Thranduil ignored them. Instead, he approached Daeron.

"Can you get me a few candles and a blanket? And hang the blanket over there?" Thranduil pointed a branch high enough to serve his purpose. Daeron nodded and shortly afterwards Thranduil was supervising the placement of the candles and the white sheet. The elves began to approach them, curious about the strange behaviour of their King. At last, Thranduil nodded in approval and he bent down trying to unclasp Legolas' hands from his tunic.

"No," Legolas complained, but Daeron approached them and he gently took the Prince and sat him on his own lap on the ground.

"I'm right here, Legolas," Thranduil said, stroking his cheek. "Trust me. I'll show you how fun shadows can be." Thranduil sat between the candles and the blanket. "Pay close attention."

The King put his hands together and extended them in front of the beam of light, the shadow reflecting on the sheet. Legolas gasped, looking wide eye at the shape that now appeared on it.

"A rabbit!" He said in surprise, pointing at it and turning to check that Daeron also saw what he was seeing.

Daeron nodded and laughed. "It's a little rabbit!"

"What is it now, Legolas?" Thranduil changed the position of his hands, and an eagle appeared projected by the light of the candles.

"It's a bird!"

"Very good, Legolas!"

The elfling turned to Daeron with a smile on his face. "Now you."

Daeron laughed and changed positions with Thranduil. "Let's see… what about this?"

The weight that Thranduil had carried in his heart lifted with each new laugh and clap that his son gave to encourage the many elves who were now queuing up to demonstrate their skills at making shadow puppets. What at first had been a vague attempt to cheer his son up had now become a competition in every sense of the word. As night advanced, Thranduil felt Legolas succumb to sleep and, shortly after, the little Prince closed his eyes, rocked by the laughter and cheerful words of the others. Although their main spectator was no longer aware, the elves continued with the show.

Thranduil smiled at Kaela as the healer dropped by his side. "How is he?" He asked.

Thranduil shrugged, looking at the child and feeling his rhythmic breathing under his hand. "I think he is better."

Kaela nodded and watched the elves who were about to proclaim the winner of the contest. "You did well, Thranduil."

"He is an easy one to distract."

"I'm not only talking about Legolas," Kaela said, nodding toward the smiling elves. Thranduil followed his gaze.

"Oh."

"You should have seen their faces an hour ago. This camp had the same atmosphere as a funeral. Look at them now."

Thranduil nodded, and some of his anguish seemed to leave him with his next breath, the contagious smiles of his warriors cheering his heart.

"Shortly before Legolas was born," Kaela said, smiling, "you said you were not sure if you would be able to be King and father at the same time. Do you remember what I told you?"

"Impossible to forget," Thranduil imitated the healer's stern expression, and said in a rumbling voice, "'Well, you should have thought about that before.'"

Both elves laughed, but Kaela fell silent shortly after and looked at Thranduil with a serious expression. "If this is not living proof that you are more than able, Thranduil, then I am not capable of distinguishing between a bandage and a curtain."

Thranduil snickered, but looked gratefully at the healer. "Thanks, Kaela."

"You are very welcome," Kaela stood up, patting Thranduil's shoulder. "It's funny, though."

"What is?"

"Let Elrond and Galadriel keep their rings of power," the healer said with a big smile on his face, "The King of Greenwood only needs a sheet and three candles to drive the shadow away."

Their laugh echoed through the forest and, believe it or not, darkness yielded before it.

* * *

 **Never underestimate the light of a candle and the sound of a laugh. I hope you enjoyed, if you did, don't forget to let me know! See you, hopefully, next Saturday!**


	14. A First-time Father Problem

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter. Art, Nina, earthdragon, Ninde, thanks so much!**

 **This is actually the mishap of a young king (or a young father, actually), but I thought you would enjoy it nonetheless! BTW, I am afraid exams are coming, so I may update less regularly in coming weeks. I just wanted to let you know. Wish me luck!**

 **Summary:** Someone is stealing Kaela's books, and he is determined to find out who and why.

 **Characters:** Thranduil, Legolas, Kaela.

* * *

 **A First-Time Father Problem**

Someone was stealing Kaela's books and that was a fact. The healer had noticed some unusual gaps on his bookshelf a few days back, but he had dismissed them as mere misplacements. Now, however, he _knew_ someone was 'borrowing' some of his medicine manuals. It was either that or he was going completely crazy, since he could swear he had left his copy of _Common Illnesses in Children_ on his table that very morning.

Counting that last one, they were already four the books that had vanished into thin air. And they were not precisely light reading, which was why Kaela was more surprised than annoyed. Truth was, it would be less troublesome to write Lord Elrond and ask for new copies than to embark on a quest to discover the mysterious thief, but the healer was now becoming curious.

Kaela sat down on his chair and picked up a paper, dipping a feather's end in black ink. _Common Illnesses in Children_ , he wrote, disposed to make a list and look for a pattern.

 _New-borns: A Guide._

 _The Evolution of the Elven Toddler_

 _Human Diseases in Elven Children_

Kaela put the feather down carefully, not wanting to leave stains on the table and raised the paper to eye level, inspecting each title and hoping for a bell to ring. All of them were related to young children, in fact, all four of them were among the pack of books Kaela used to give to first-time parents who lived far from a healer.

"First-time parents…" Kaela mused, massaging the bridge of his nose in concentration. An idea hit him all of a sudden. "Oh no, it cannot be."

Kaela left his study hastily, leaving behind the Healing Ward and heading to where he hoped his lost books would be. If they were not there, then he honestly had no idea what had befallen them, but something told Kaela his hunch was not amiss.

At last he reached the long corridor, and Kaela slowly opened the first door. Inside, the moonbeams that crept through the open balcony were the only source of light, but it was enough to help Kaela notice the two sleeping forms on the bed, one huddled against the other.

Kaela closed the door carefully and looked around. Usually, it would be unthinkable for the healer to dare enter the Royal Bedroom without permission, but with Enery away in Imladris, Kaela knew that it was unlikely that Thranduil would be angry with him for invading his privacy in such way. And if he did, Kaela could always remind him that he had seen the King in any imaginable state. One of the prerogatives of the Head of Healers was, after all, to attend the Royal Family personally.

Kaela slid to the table and had to fight a loud snicker of self-congratulation when he saw his four missing books laying on it, open, some of them with underlined text. Beside them were dozens of papers with scribbles and notes, and many others wrinkled on the floor. The healer picked up one of the papers and walked to the balcony looking for some more light.

" _The fever is normal if it does not rise too much overnight." What is considered 'too much'?_ _Ask Kaela_ _._

In another paragraph Thranduil had hurriedly written something about the evolution and growth of the baby's ears. "Really, Thranduil? Not even I read that chapter."

Kaela sighed, putting the paper back in its place, and he turned to look at the two elves on the bed, whose rhythmic breathing was almost imperceptible. Thranduil was sleeping on his side, his legs curled up. Next to him, a tiny bundle lay on his back. The King had his arm over his son's belly, and Kaela suspected that Legolas could not even sigh without his father noticing. Chuckling, Kaela shook his head and tiptoed to the bed with a blanket that he spread over the two elves. The healer froze on his feet when Legolas shuffled under it and Thranduil hushed him back to sleep without even waking up himself.

Kaela let out his breath, relieved that he had not disturbed their sleep, and was heading for the door when something caught his eye. On the nightstand there was an open book with a page written and the next one blank. Kaela wondered if maybe it was another of his books and he eyed it over to check, reading the written page.

 _Week 50. The fever has yet to break, but Legolas seemed a little bit more cheerful today. Kaela says everything's normal, but he's been known to be wrong before._

Kaela gasped in surprise, immediately clasping his hand over his mouth to prevent any further noise. He walked to the balcony and stepped outside, sitting on the chair that someone had left behind. He closed the book and examined the cover, bare of any title on both the front and the spine. He opened it and went to the first page, eager for answers. The book began promptly, lacking any title or signal.

 _Week 2. Some red spots have appeared on Legolas' arm. They do not seem to itch or hurt, they are just there. In addition, Legolas does not seem to have any appetite and he is really thin. Kaela says that he is fine, but he does not know my son like I do._

 _Week 10. Today Elrond has come to meet my son and Legolas pulled his hair. Though Kaela says it's impossible, I swear that Legolas babbled 'fool of a Noldo'. Your grandfather would be very proud, little Legolas._

Kaela smiled, but a wave of guilt washed over him. This was clearly some kind of diary, and reading it was a direct violation of privacy that even the benevolent Thranduil would not easily forgive. But, at the same time, Kaela had already been caught by the net of curiosity, and it was a net from which it was very difficult to escape. Also, if Thranduil mentioned him in the diary, he was somewhat 'entitled' to read it, right? Even it was only to defend his honour.

 _Week 25. Today, my son winked at me._

 _Week 28. Legolas has started to crawl. It was a very exciting moment and everyone missed it but I. Kaela said it was foolish to spend an hour a day crawling for Legolas to imitate me, since he was still too young, but he underestimated the tenacity of Oropher's line. I have not told anyone yet, I'm reserving it for dinner so I can tease Enery about it._

 _Week 32. Legolas is in the Healing Wards. I write this in haste because I have to go to his side immediately. When I arrived at his room this morning, I found him out of his crib, crying, and with a terrible blow to the head._

Kaela gulped at the remembrance of that horrible day. He recalled the face of utter terror on Thranduil and Enery when they reached the Healing Ward with Legolas in their arms. Apparently, the little Prince had tried to climb over his crib and had fallen straight on his head. It would be hard for Kaela to forget the anguished words of Thranduil as he asked Kaela to heal Legolas. As if he needed to be asked to.

 _Week 33. Kaela has finally deemed Legolas well enough to leave the Healing Ward. Still, I think I will ask him to keep Legolas for a few more days, you never know with children. I have to say, Kaela has been very patient with Enery and me during this ordeal. I may be giving him less credit than he deserves. I know he is probably equal to Elrond as far as the Healing's arts are concerned and will try to be more complacent from now on._

 _Week 35. Today, Legolas has called me 'Ada' for the first time. Enery did not hear it, so she keeps on saying that he can only say Nana, but it's not true. Legolas whispered Ada to my ear, too softly for anyone to hear which, now that I think about it, kind of feels like a small betrayal done on purpose. I wonder if Legolas knows what teasing is yet._

 _Week 37. I measured Legolas' ears and I am pleased to say that they evolve favourably. It seems like my son will get my ears, after all._

 _Week 44. Today, for the first time, I had to go away from Legolas. It was only for a day, but nobody warned me that it would hurt so much._

Kaela turned the last page and stared at the blank paper. His emotions had varied throughout the reading, beginning in anger at the King's accusations and ending with an amazingly warm feeling on his heart. He had never read anything written with such love and dedication. Week by week, Thranduil had sat down to write the latest news regarding his son, his biggest worries and his great achievements. The way in which he had described how Legolas had come to realization of his hands had sounded as epic as if he had discovered a secret door to Valinor.

Kaela rose carefully and put the book back where it had been, now looking at the King with renewed respect. "You will be fine," the healer whispered. Then his gaze shifted to the small bulge on his arms, "and you'd better be good and appreciate the great father you have."

As if by answer, Legolas opened his eyes and looked at Kaela above him. The healer smiled, and Legolas extended his hand as if to reach for him, giving him a big smile and cooing. Thranduil gave a big sigh and stirred, which Kaela took as his cue to leave.

While closing the door, Kaela heard the beginning of a lullaby.

Next morning, Thranduil walked out the room only to trip and almost fall over a tower of books someone had left at the door.

"What on Arda-?" He said as he picked up the first one, surprised when he read the title.

 _The Fever in Children and How to Treat It. A Manual._

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 **I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, do not forget to let me know! Have a great weekend ;)**


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